Summer Camp
by DapperDestruction
Summary: Blaine is young and confused, feelings repressed by an abusive, homophobic father. The only thing that could shake things up more? Dean. Part of the Falling Apart universe. Pre-Klaine, but Klaine is the end game!
1. Arrival

The last duffel bag hit the dirt with an ominous thud. Blaine guessed that being here was better than being home, but that didn't mean he wanted to be at summer camp for three months.

Blaine's father shut the trunk and leaned a hip against it for a moment, considering his son as Blaine gathered up his things. The lawyer's expression remained flat as he spoke. "I'll see you in eight weeks, Blaine. Remember the Rules," he said, making Blaine flinch almost imperceptibly, and nodded to his son once as way of goodbye as he walked around to his door.

"Take care of Cooper for me!" Blaine called to his father, who grunted in response before he slammed the door and drove away

Blaine stood, squinting against the dust that had been kicked up as he watched the BMW disappear into the distance. After it was completely gone from sight, he sighed and walked towards the main building for check-in.

He struggled to shoulder open the door with all his bags in tow and barely managed to not fall down on his way to the front desk. Carrying all that weight made his still-sore ribs ache a little bit more. He smiled politely at the beaming girl sitting at the table that he assumed he was supposed to go to first. She looked like she was probably a high schooler, maybe college-aged. Pretty, too-but that kind of homey, low-maintenance pretty. In Blaine's opinion, that was the best kind of pretty on a girl. Or guy, for that matter.

She had strawberry blonde hair, slicked back into a neat ponytail with just a few strays falling around her face and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She had her ears pierced 3 times each with a fourth little hoop of silver stuck through the top of her left ear. Her bottle green eyes glittered happily as Blaine approached her.

"Hi! I'm Abigail. Welcome to camp, dude. What's your name?" she asked as she moved her hands towards the stack of lanyards containing name tags for everyone.

"Blaine Anderson," he answered and she smiled as she picked his up off the top of the stack and handed it to him. He dropped his lanyard around his neck and briefly touched the hair at the nape of his neck, making sure it was free from the necklace.

"Here ya go, Blaine. Your parents bringing the rest of your stuff in?" she asked, then frowned slightly when he shook his head.

"No, this is all my stuff," he said, glancing down at his bags then back up at her, giving his excuse, "We were running late this morning and my dad had to rush to make it back in time for a meeting with a client."

Abigail seemed to accept that easily enough and nodded, standing up. "Well, I'll help you carry some of it, then. You look so bogged down. Follow me and we'll get you checked for lice," she said as she bent down to pick up one of his duffel bags and led him down a long hallway off to the side.

They went into a big room that looked it was probably mostly used for conferences. There were a few other kids, mostly younger than him, getting check by various adults and high schoolers. Abigail directed him to an empty chair, where he sat patiently, hands folded neatly in his lap as he hummed under his breath as Abigail pulled on the latex gloves behind him and started inspecting his hair.

"Just call on me, and I'll send it along. With love, from me, to you," Abigail chimed in softly behind him and Blaine's humming faltered. "The Beatles. Wise choice, kid."

Blaine was silent for a moment before saying, "Thanks." A genuine smile touched his lips for a moment as he began to sing the words softly under his breath.

"All done!" Abigail announced happily as she pulled her gloves off and tossed them in the trash. "Nice 'do, by the way. You totally rock the curls with excellence, my man." She ruffled his dark curls with her now bare hand for emphasis.

Blaine's grin widened this time as he stood up. He knew that she was probably just dong her job as a counselor, treating him like that and trying to make him feel special, but it was working-he felt special.

They both picked up a bag and walked towards the door. "Yours isn't so bad, either, ginger kid," he said with a grin.

"Hey, now!" Abigail protested and elbowed him in the bicep as a laugh rose from her throat and she tipped her head back slightly.

They chatted for the few minutes it took to walk to Blaine's cabin. "Here we are, kiddo," she said to him and pushed open the door with her hip.

She dropped the bags she was carrying in the middle of the room and turned to him, dusting her palms off on her denim cut offs before she planted them on her hips and looked around, appraising the room.

"Nice digs, kid. You got one of the two-person cabins. Means you don't have a counselor with you 24/7, just your roommate. Lucky," she said as he moved into the cabin and set his bags on the bed to the left of the door, claiming it as his own.

When he turned back around, Abigail was at the door. "I'll catch you later tonight, kid. Gotta go take care of my duties and all," she said as she pushed open the squeaky screen door and walked backwards down the path as it slammed close. "See you at orientation!" she called. She grinned in response to his wave before turning and jogging back towards the main building.

After she left Blaine kept smiling for a few seconds, then the smile faded away as the emptiness of the cabin settled over him. He looked around at what would be his home for three months.

The floor was covered with an old, stained forest green burber that was ripped up and loose in one corner. The walls were bare wood and looked old and weathered, almost like it had rained against the inside for years instead of the outside. The beds looked like they were convertible and could be made into bunk beds, if they wanted, but for the moment they were set against the two opposite walls that didn't contain the door or single window that filtered in sunlight.

He began to unpack and put things away, dropping his clothes into the set of drawers tucked under his bed. He also put a few random things in the drawers of the bedside table and shoved his mostly empty bags under his bed before putting the sheets on the mattress. Once he was done, he looked around the cabin again before shrugging to himself and flopping down on the bed, fiddling with the rubik's cube he'd tossed in his bag on a whim.

He attempted, unfruitfully, to solve a side for a few minutes before he spaced out, merely turning the pieces at random as he thought. He wondered who his roommate was going to be. Most of all, he hoped it was someone ugly. If the boy was cute it would make it so much harder to follow the Rules while he was here and they were alone together all the time.

His thoughts were interrupted quickly, though, when he heard someone approaching the cabin. Voices filtered in through the door and he listened absently.

"Be good, son. And have fun." The man's voice was deep and warm and loving. Blaine fought back the pang of jealousy that shot through his chest. His dad never took that tone with him. When Bill Anderson told Blaine to "be good", it was a warning, not affectionate.

"Love you too, Dad," the younger voice came. Blaine heard the soft clap of flesh on flesh, signaling that they were hugging and clapping each other on the back. He heard a soft kiss and could picture the father leaning down to kiss his son on the forehead, or maybe the cheek.

Then the door opened and Blaine stood, ready to greet the the boy. When he caught sight of who it was he froze, his clenching in his chest. His fingers went slack and the Rubik's cube dropped to the floor with a loud clatter.

Dean, for his part, recovered quicker than Blaine. He shook his head once and straightened up a little bit, slapping on a smile.

"Hey, Blaine."


	2. Avoidance

A/N: Hey, everybody! I'm glad that you're reading this. I know that stories that are OC heavy aren't always received very well. (It's getting even more OC heavy, even) But I've gotten so involved with Dean and developing his character when helping Lindsey with Falling Apart that, when I sat down to write this, he was already completely there. So I almost feel like he's a canon character. Thanks for tuning in and I'm so happy that I already have so many favourites/alerts after just the first chapter. I love you all! (Also, Abigail is my new favourite character ever. xD)

Oh, and Lindsey, Love? We totally deal with eachother's crazy-you put up with mind just as much as I put up with yours! =] And it's thanks to you that I've been so motivated for this story. I've literally got more notes in the outline than I do stuff actually typed up. So, readers, look forward to a nice, long fic. Now, on to the chapter!

Luckily, it was easy for Blaine to avoid Dean. Everyone kept busy, of course-that was what camp was for. The first day, they had group orientation and Blaine purposefully sat on the complete opposite side of the group as Dean. Luckily, they weren't in the same small group. The unease he'd felt ever since "meeting" his new cabin mate lessened slightly when he saw who his group leader was.

"Hey, Curls!" she greeted, smiling as he approached. He grinned back at her and laughed slightly when she pulled him into a one-armed hug.

"Hi, Abigail. I'm glad I got put in your group. Lucky, I guess," he said.

Abigail winked at him, ruffling his curls, "Nah," she stuck her tongue out at him, "Luck's got nothing to do with it. I requested you."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up at her statement. She requested him? It took him a moment to process. She had actually taken such a liking to him that she _wanted_ him in her group? A wider grin broke out across his face and he hugged her back. "Thanks, Abigail.

She laughed and nodded, patting his shoulder. "Pst, ease up, kiddo. Wouldn't want the others to get jealous," she said with one last wink and took a step away from him. Blaine nodded and turned towards the other five that were approaching them.

"Okay, so, Blue group, we're all here," Abigail said, smiling, "Let's sit."

They all did as she instructed, forming a loose circle. Blaine sat to Abigail's right and looked around at the other kids in his group. They looked to be a fairly decent range of ages.

"First thing's first-introductions. Name, age, and… hmmm. And something awesome about yourself. I'm Abigail, I'm 21, and I started a charity at my college for cancer research that raised over 10,000 dollars," she said, then gestured to her left, "Your turn."

The girl next to her was sitting with her legs folded underneath her. She flipped her hair back behind her shoulder when the attention was on her. Blaine's eyebrows twitched together slightly for a half second before she started talking. "I am Valerie O'Neal. I'm 15 years old and I won queen at my school's 8th grade dance 2 months ago. My school is very big and I had a lot of competition, but I beat out all of them," she said, ending her mini-speech with a smirk. If Blaine didn't know better, he would say that the smile Abigail gave her was a little strained.

Abigail gestured to the next girl Valerie, who smiled shyly around at everyone. The two were exact opposites. She had long, pretty black hair that was tied back in a tail, but pulled forward over her shoulder, hanging nearly to her hips. Valerie had blonde hair that was layered and styled with a slight flip. Valerie was all chest and hips and perfect figure, where as the other girl was a little taller and bulkier-not fat, just bigger. Like maybe she was into sports, or something. She looked nice, where as Valerie came off as exceptionally arrogant.

"Um, I'm Terra. Singleton. I'm still 14, but my birthday's in a few weeks, so I'll be 15 soon. I've already got a place assured on first string basketball at the high school I'm going to next year. I was MVP of the 8th grade league in my county," she said, her small smile growing a little wider with pride.

Abigail grinned fondly at the girl. "That's totally cool. You'll have to give some of us pointers, Terra. Maybe we'll play a game for our group activity one day," she said with a nod that made Terra's smile bigger. "Next!" Abigail announced.

"M'name's Michael Jennings. People call me Mike. I'm15. I'm gonna be a first-stringer, too," he said, shooting a grin in Terra's direction, who blushed bright red and looked down at her lap. Blaine calmly observed the whole scene, also catching the glare Valerie shot in the other girl's direction. Mike looked back towards the group in general. "Football, though, not basketball. Though, I'm gonna go out for basketball and baseball, too."

Blaine couldn't help but noticing that Mike was cute. He tried not to, he really did, but the other boy was probably all muscle underneath his baggy shorts and t-shirt. That was a problem, though, and he found himself a little intimidated by the other boy. He seemed like a real guy, a macho dude-which was exactly the type that would turn on him if he caught, or even suspected, Blaine looking at him funny. He'd have to stay clear of Mike outside of their small group meetings.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Abigail gestured to the next boy to speak. "I'm Drew Carter, I'm 14, and I, uh, I've been riding horse since I was 6. I have my own stallion named Remmington, Remmy for short, and I ride him in shows.

"Stephen Rivera. Call me Steve or Rivera, whichever. I'm 15 and I play drums. I'm excited for band next year at school, and maybe getting to practice some while I'm here," the last boy said very nonchalantly.

When Abigail prompted, "Curls?" he was surprised. He hadn't even been thinking about what he was going today about himself, too caught up in thinking about the others and what they were saying. "Oh, uh. I'm Blaine. Anderson. Blaine Anderson," he said, already stumbling over his words, "I'm 15."

Silence hung in the air as the rest of the group waited expectantly for him to finish and tell them something about himself. He opened his mouth, thinking something would just come out, but nothing did. He closed it again. What the hell? What was he supposed to say about himself? He had absolutely no clue.

"Blaine?" Abigail said softly, looking down at him. He turned his head towards her, looking imploringly.

"What's wrong with you?" Valerie said, crossing her arms across her chest, "Isn't there anything cool about you?" Blaine's cheeks burnt red and he looked down at his lap where his hands were folder in his criss-crossed legs.

"Be nice," Abigail reprimanded.

"I'm-uh…I-"

"Blaine, here, is musically talented. I've just heard him humming and singing to himself, but he's got some wicked pipes and I bet he'd sound ten times better if he was actually trying," Abigail provided for him. Blaine's head shot up, jaw dropping a centimeter before he snapped it shut. He nodded, not making eye contact with anyone, gaze dropping back to the ground.

"Yeah. I can sing. I guess." Dad wouldn't have been very happy if he heard that, barely halfway through the first day, he was talking about singing and other gay stuff like that. But his dad wasn't there and it wasn't like there was really anything could do to take it back.

Blain could feel Abigail's eyes on him as she spoke, "Okay. So, now that that's done, we're gonna play some games, just the basics. I'm sure you guys've all done this for years and years, every summer." She instructed them all to stand up, but Blaine had already tuned them out.

Already, following the Rules wasn't going so well. He wasn't being the son that his father wanted him to. The only friend he'd made was a girl, and not even a girl that he could make the excuse of trying to flirt with since she was a counselor. If they were friends, that is. Whatever. The one thing people knew about him was that he could sing well. How gay was that?

Plus he wasn't exactly exuding manliness, was he? Not to mention Dean.

Dean… what was he going to do about that? He had no clue. Eventually, he decided that he just wouldn't think about Dean. He would ignore him as best he could and stay the path and all that crap. Yeah, that could work. That could definitely work. He could follow the Rules and his father wouldn't be angry with him.

For about two hours, they played around and most of the group bonded. Blaine participated distractedly and Abigail grew a little concerned.

"Okay, guys, it looks like it's getting close to dinner time. Let's head to the cafeteria, yeah?" she said, ushering them all in the right direction. Blaine tagged along behind the group. He didn't even notice when Abigail sidled up beside him.

"Hey, Curls," she said softly.

He glanced up, surprised, and gave her a small smile. He knew he'd been kind of distracted during their games and had probably seemed upset, but he was better now that he'd figured out what he was going to do. He still wasn't happy, but he wasn't quite so afraid anymore.

"Hi, Abigail."

"Sooooo… what's up?"

"…nothing?"

"C'mon, dude. Ever since the introductions, you've been way out of it. And what was up with that, man? You're an awesome kid. Why'd you hesitate like that?"

Blaine's cheeks burned and he stared straight at the ground, watching his feet slowly eat up the distance towards the cafeteria. The chattering of his groupmates around him was like roaring in his ears. "I dunno…" he muttered, barely a whisper, and felt tears stinging at his eyes.

Damn! This was no way to start off 3 months! How pathetic was it that he couldn't think of a single good thing about himself? But… everything about him was a disappointment. He was short and he didn't like most sports. He wasn't even that great at soccer, the only one he did like. The only things he was good at were girly and a disappointment. Singing, dancing. And there as the big thing….

"Hey."

Abigail's soft voice brought him out of his thoughts and a hand on his shoulder stopped his forward motion. He bit his lip and looked up at her, eyes watery. His eyes met Abigail's and he was taken aback with how kind her expression was. His chin quivered slightly. Then, before he knew it, he was pulled against her chest in a tight hug.

"I don't know what's up with you, Curls, but you're a good kid. Don't forget it, yeah?"

Blaine stood stiffly at first, then relaxed into the hug. He didn't bring his arms up to return the gesture, though. He nodded stiffly. "Uh-huh," he murmured and pulled back.

Abigail smiled at him and nodded. "Okay," she said, then jerked her head down the hall, "Let's go eat," she said.

The small group ate together, then the entire camp went out to the outdoor theatre, which had a big fire pit off to the side for s'mores. Blaine volunteered for duty roasting marshmallows for people that didn't want to get close to the fire so he could avoid Dean.

Eventually, the crowd of campers started dispersing, mostly the younger kids, but Blaine just wanted to get away as soon as he could, so he was one of the first ones gone. He walked briskly back to his cabin and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it to be empty. Dean must have still been out at the campfire with all the others.

Blaine hurried himself getting reedy to go to sleep and was in bed already by the time Dean came in. When the door squeaked open, Blaine remained still and kept his eyes shut. There was a short pause during which he could feel that familiar prickling on the back of his neck that meant someone was watching him, then he heard the footsteps move across the cabin. A few minutes later, the light flicked off and Blaine allowed himself to relax into sleep.

The next day Blaine was gone when Dean woke up. it was easy enough to avoid Dean for the better part of the day. The camp was split up into two groups for most of the day and Dean was in the other half. It wasn't until that evening, after their time in their small groups, that they saw each other.

On the way back to the cabin, Blaine psyched himself up to face Dean for the first time in over 24 hours. _Don't look at him. Ignore him and pretend he's not there. Just follow the rules. It'll get easier to resist as time goes on._

Blaine took a deep breath and pushed open the door. His eyes flicked very briefly to Dean, just as the blonde looked his way. They held a gaze for the span of a heart beat, then Blaine looked away, feeling his face heat and cursing himself mentally.

He looked straight ahead, brushing past Dean and walking to his bed. The smile faded from the other boy's face as he Blaine walked by. He crouched down and reached under his bed, rummaging around in one of his duffel bags for his shampoo and soap.

"How was your day?"

Blaine paused, grip tightening on the bag, then relaxed and continued his rummaging. He set out the two bottles and shoved the bag back under his bed, pulling out his suitcase to look for a towel.

When the question hung in the air for more than a few seconds Dean frowned, watching as Blaine gathered all his things into his arms and stood up straight.

"It's not contagious, you know," Dean muttered as Blaine walked towards the door. He paused, hand stretched out towards the handle. "You're not gonna catch the gay."

Blaine's head whipped towards Dean and his eyes narrowed for a second before he turned away and left, the screen door slamming after him.

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the look Blain had given him. There was pure hatred there-anger-but something else, too. Sadness, it looked like, understanding. After a moment, Dean's jaw dropped and he gasped, covering his mouth with his hands.

"No way…" he muttered to himself, shaken his head. No way.


	3. Awkward

Dean was freaking out. Who the hell would've thought?

Blaine Anderson? Blaine-Mister-freakin'-perfect-Anderson was a fag? Fag-Brandon and his gang's words, not Dean's. No way, man. This was rich. Seriously? A homophobic homosexual? What the hell did you even call someone like that? A gay bashing gay? A closeted queer? Hell, maybe he was wrong and you could catch gay and Dean had passed it on to him one of those times that he'd been shoved into the lockers. But, if that was the case, Blaine's extra douchey friends should've been converted long before Blaine.

Dean would give the other boy that much-that he wasn't nearly as bad as the other guys that bullied him. But that didn't change the fact that he was still a bully. Blaine had done tons of shit to him back at school and he hadn't exactly been too thrilled when he'd walked in to see that pretty mop of dark curls waiting for him in the cabin. But he'd dealt with it, taking it in stride. Blaine, on the other hand, had freaked out in every way short of screaming when he saw him.

It was exactly the opposite of what Dean had expected from him. There were two things that made sense for a bully like Blaine to do. One was to keep on bullying and be a total dick to Dean. That hadn't happened, not that he hadn't been a little dickish. But, still, not bullying levels. The second response Dean had expected was for Blaine to be nice to him. If he was someone who just went along with the bullying because his friends did it and he had the "why make waves?" mentality, then Blaine would've had no problem looking him in the eye and playing nice while he wasn't under their influence.

But the way he was acting now was something totally different. He avoided him and ignored him to the point of not responding when Dean talked to him. It was ridiculous. Blaine was ridiculous. What the hell kind of person allowed someone to be tormented for feeling the same things he did, then called those people his friends? How the hell did Blaine put up with Brandon and all his shit when he knew inside that they would do the same shit to him if they ever found out that he was gay?

Dean fumed for a long time before he finally walked across the cabin and turned the lights out with a little more force than necessary and stomped back to his bed.

There was a soft knock on the door and one of the male counselors entered. "Bed check," he said and scanned the cabin, "where's your roommate?"

"He's in the shower. He should be back soon, though."

The counselor didn't seem too worried and believed him easily. "Okay. Goodnight," he said.

"Night," Dean muttered back as he rolled over.

He faced the wall and brooded in silence. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Blaine wasn't gay. He'd just jumped to that conclusion from nothing more than a look, after all. But… would that make the way he was acting, and what he had done to Dean, better or worse?

His thoughts were broken by the sound of the screen door squeaking open and he jumped. He heard Blaine pause by the door and inhaled deeply, mimicking sleep, and felt a shiver travel down his spine, surprising him. With him, Blaine had brought the smell of Ivory soap and summer nights, all heat and growing grass and a faint floral touch.

It was an interesting combination of the trademark scents of the two women that had been important in his life. His mother had always smelled like the outside. At the end of the day, when he was younger, he always remembered her smelling like dirt and roses and lilacs. He used to inhale that scent when he hugged her goodnight and it was often the last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep.

Renee, on the other hand, worked indoors most of the time. In the few years that she had lived with them, he had come to associate her with the scents of horrible office coffee and Ivory soap that seemed to somehow stick to her clothing. Even though the two scents were already attached to other people in his mind, the combination seemed to be somehow distinctly Blaine.

He was snapped out of his reminiscence when he heard Blaine moving, shutting the wooden door with a soft click. His scent filled the room as he moved across the cabin to his own bed. Dean listened thoughtfully to the rustling as he got settled in bed. After a few minutes of silence and even breathing, Dean rolled over and looked at Blaine's face, cast in sharp relief by the green glow of his alarm clock.

Dean watched him for a few seconds before, suddenly, he realized Blaine's eyes were open and he was staring back at him. Their gazes met and held for a long moment. Dean felt a chill travel up his spine and he was pretty sure he saw the other boy shiver before breaking eye contact and rolling over. Dean pursed his lips and stared thoughtfully at the back of Blaine's head for a few minutes before he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

Even if he isn't gay, he thought, it sure would be nice to know what the hell is going on with him. And maybe he could give Blaine a little taste of his own medicine. I mean, it isn't like he doesn't deserve it. With that, Dean closed his eyes and fell asleep shortly after.

The next morning, Dean began his "torture". He shot a few glances Blaine's way as they got ready that morning in silence. He could tell that Blaine knew something was up, but that just made it better.

He glanced over at the other boy as he finished spraying bug spray-a must for camp-on himself. Dean walked over, a huge grin on his face and purposely got a little too close to Blaine to be comfortable or natural. He watched as Blaine looked at him suspiciously and froze completely still for a moment before he leaned away ever so slightly. "Can I borrow this?" he asked, reaching out and purposefully brushing their fingers together. Again, he watched as Blaine flinched at the invasion of his personal space.

He waited for a response, but all he got to the affirmative was Blaine releasing the bottle into his possession. He tipped his head back and sprayed himself, eyes closed, before he smiled at Blaine, taking in his blank expression, and handed the bottle back to him, making sure to make skin-to-skin contact again.

He went to breakfast and pondered over the reactions he'd gotten from Blaine earlier. This was fun already, and he'd just barely gotten started. Blaine looked at him like he'd grown an extra head whenever he talked to him, and he got all twitchy when he was close. He was definitely getting a nervous reaction from his cabinmate. He was almost sure that he was right, now.

Blaine Anderson was sooooo gay.

He brainstormed on the way back to his cabin, trying to think of more ways to get reactions out of the curly-haired boy. He wondered if he could get away with trailing a hand across his shoulders. He got a chill just thinking about it. He wasn't prepared when he walked in to catch sight of a half naked Blaine standing across the cabin from him.

Blaine was standing by his bed, halfway facing the door, but almost in profile. The window behind him lit him in sharp contrast. It was nice. He paused in the doorway and drank in the sight for a moment. Blaine was even more toned than he'd thought he would be. Dean supposed that soccer was more intense than he'd thought.

He noticed a bruise on the right side of the other boy's ribs and his brows furrowed slightly. Blaine looked over at him sharply and he pulled the shirt in his hands up to his chest, almost like a girl covering herself up. Dean snapped out of his stare and looked up at Blaine's face. He scoffed.

"Looks like you're not as tough without your buddies, huh? How is Brandon, by the way? I heard your father gave him MVP last season. How'd that feel?"

At the mention of his father, Blaine suddenly changed and it startled Dean. The little bit of emotion that had been present on his features disappeared and he paled. He tugged his shirt on and roughly shouldered past him and was out the door.

Dean was left in stunned silence. When he finally recovered a few minutes later, he frowned and grabbed his water bottle, the reason he'd come back to the cabin in the first place, and headed over to his small group. He frowned the entire way and was sort of caught up in his thoughts as he approached his counselor.

Dean was the last one to arrive and Phoenix perked up when the blonde approached. He jogged over and slung an arm around Dean's shoulders, grinning widely. "Hey, my man!" he said, then took a closer look at Dean's face, smile fading a little bit, "What's up with you? Is everything alright?"

Dean looked up at his counselor, raising his eyebrows. He could hear a hint of his accent, something exotic and vaguely Latino. Phoenix was an interesting guy, and Dean liked him. Aside from his personality, which had come at them full force from the first second of the first day, his looks were unique enough to make him stand out in a crowd.

Phoenix had long hair that fell to mid back in loose curls, a little scraggly on the ends, but still great looking. He was lean, but not skinny, and his face had an exotic attractiveness to it. He wore an old pair of TOMS with no socks and he was the only guy that Dean had ever seen wear a hemp ankle bracelet. He had pair of jeans that had been cut off and rolled up to just below his knees. Then slung low on his hips and were fastened with a canvas belt. His shirt today was black with a bleached out pattern and something written in Spanish on the front, with an army green, short sleeved, collared shirt left unbuttoned over the top.

Dean smiled up at him and shrugged. "I guess I just miss home," he lied with another shrug, "I haven't really clicked tight with anyone yet. Y'know."

Phoenix's smiled returned and he slapped him on the back. "Well, cheer up, dude! Abigail and her kids are gonna join us later at the lake. There are some pretty awesome kids in her group. But, for now, c'mon. Jon brought a hackie sack and we're playing head hunter."

Dean glanced over at the rest of his group. Jon, Jenny, and Brian were standing in a circle, lobbing the hackie sack back and forth. Beth stood nearby; apparently she'd already gotten out. When she saw him, she smiled and waved him over towards them. Eli stood back a little bit, crouched and focusing his camera before snapping a few pictures of the game. When Dean and Phoenix started walking over, he turned his camera on them and snapped one more shot before tucking the device away.

Blaine didn't go to group activity that day. Instead he wandered around until he found someplace to hole up. Eventually, he made his way to the lake and spent the majority of his time reading inside a small boathouse. It was small and dank, smelling strongly of fish and gasoline. But Blaine liked it here. It was quiet and peaceful. Covered up in the corner was an old wooden boat that looked like it had been abandoned halfway through restoration. Blaine wondered who had stopped the project. What happened in their lives to make them stop working on it?

Outside, he heard the others swimming and laughing in the lake, but he didn't really feel like joining. He sat silently and listened to one girl calling out to a boy that he assumed was still on the beach. He was pretty sure he could pick out Abigail's voice, talking with a deeper male voice, probably another counselor. They all seemed like they were having fun, but there was no way Blaine could have fun right then.

He was still rattled by what Dean had said earlier. Dean had seen something. He had broken past a carefully placed façade, and now Blaine was faced with the possibility that someone could find out his biggest, most shameful secret. So he did what he always did. He hid; he isolated himself from the group and tried not to make too many connections. Because connections led to questions and questions led to everyone finding out. And that could not happen.

So, he stayed by himself. He sat in that boathouse for hours and read straight through his book. It wasn't until he was done that he finally stood up and stretched, looking around. The sun was hanging low in the sky, getting close to dipping below the water.

It was early evening and Blaine was starving. He had skipped lunch, opting to eat one of the granola bars he had packed with him. He finished the last pages of his book and took it back to the cabin on his way to the mess hall to see if he could catch the end of dinner. The camp was strangely empty. He glanced down at his watch and was surprised to see that dinner was almost over. Grumbling to himself, he picked up pace.

He saw Abigail as he came up to the door and she smiled and waved, approaching him. "Dude!" she exclaimed, "We were freaking worried about you! You went AWOL on us." She punched him lightly in the shoulder.

His reaction was instantaneous and instinctive. He flinched violently and shrunk away from Abigail, taking two quick steps back. His eyes went wide and wild, darting around and staring at Abigail's hands as she immediately jerked back and held them up harmlessly. "Whoa, whoa, Curls. Calm down, Babe," she cooed softly to him, like one would to a wounded animal.

Then, suddenly, he snapped back. Suddenly, he was fake Blaine again, happy Blaine. Straight Blaine. He pasted a smile on his face and turned on the charm that he'd learned to rely on.

"What's wrong, Blaine?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing, I'm just hungry and I spaced out. You just startled me," he said, grinning.

"Are you sure?" Abigail asked, obviously not buying it.

He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm totally fine. I'm just gonna grab some food before Brendan puts it away."

"Alright…" she said skepticism clear in her voice, but she apparently decided to let it drop, "Our table is just over there." She pointed to a large round table near the center of the hall.

He sighed in relief when she walked away. That had been close. He needed to stop reacting like that, so people wouldn't get suspicious. He didn't really pay attention to what food he got as he slid through the short line, mostly made up of people getting desserts or second helpings.

He joined the rest of his small group. There were three empty chairs clustered together on the far side of the table. He sat in the middle one, giving him a buffer of one chair between him anybody else. He didn't interact with the others at all. He listened to the conversation, something about white water rafting. He tried to engage himself, he really did, but it was hard.

Every time he thought of something to say…. he couldn't. Either because the trips his father had taken him on were a bribe, or something had happened on the trip to taint the memory. It was something that he wouldn't-no, he couldn't-share with anyone else. So he kept his mouth shut. It was almost like he didn't have a past. He didn't have a happy one, anyway. He was just going through the motions of his life, existing.

As soon as he was done eating, he practically ran back to his cabin. Dean wasn't there, luckily, and he grabbed his toiletries and a towel and headed to the bathhouse, listening to his iPod on the way. He hummed "Thinking of You" as he walked. Katy Perry always made him feel better.

The bath house was divided in half, with a door for the girls to enter their part on the other side of the building. He entered the boy's side and busied himself in the toilet/sink area; brushing his teeth and messing around a little bit as he waited for the one other boy in the building to finish his shower and leave.

As soon as he was alone, he entered the shower section and set his clean clothes and things down on the benches that lined one wall. He stripped down to his boxers and took his towel and soap over to one of the stalls. Once in it, he took off his underwear and tossed them over with the rest of his dirty clothes and turned on the water.

He hated the lack of privacy that public showers had, but he would have to get used to it. He'd just try to shower at odd times, so he'd hopefully be alone. He began to go through his normal routine, enjoying the water for a few minutes before squirted a dollop of shampoo into his hand. As he lathered his hair, he started humming again, and then began to sing to the empty room.

_You change your mind like a girl changes clothes_

_Yeah, you change your mind like a girl I would know_

_And you always think, always speak cryptically_

_I should know that you're no good for me_

_'Cause you're hot and you're cold_

_You're yes and you're no_

_You're in and you're out_

_You're up and you're down_

_You're wrong when it's right_

_You're black and it's white_

_We fight, we break up_

_We hug, we make up_

At this point, he felt most of his worries lifting away, at least for the moment. Katy Perry really did have a way of making him feel better. He even started to move a little as he lathered the shampoo in his hair.

_You, you don't really wanna stay, no_

_But you, you don't really wanna go, oh_

_'Cause you're hot and you're cold_

_You're yes then you're no_

_You're in and you're out_

_You're up and you're down_

_We used to be just like twins, so in sync_

_The same energy now's a dead battery_

_Used to laugh 'bout nothing, now you're plain boring_

_I should know that you're not gonna change_

_'Cause you're hot and you're cold_

_You're yes and you're no_

_You're in and you're out_

_You're up and you're down_

He started to really dance, now.

_You're wrong when it's right_

_You're black and it's white_

_We fight, we break up_

_We hug, we make up_

_You, you don't really wanna stay, no_

_But you, you don't really wanna go, oh_

_You're hot and you're cold_

_You're yes and you're no_

_You're in and you're out_

_You're up and you're down_

_Someone call the doctor_

_Got a case of a love disorder_

_Stuck on a roller coaster_

_Can't get off this ride_

_You change your mind like a girl changes clothes_

_'Cause you're hot and you're cold_

_You're yes and you're no_

_You're in and you're out_

_You're up and you're down_

_You're wrong when it's right_

_You're black and it's white_

_We fight, we break up_

_We hug, we make up_

_You, you don't really wanna stay, no_

_But you, you don't really wanna go, oh_

_You're hot and you're cold_

_You're yes and you're no_

_You're in and you're out_

_You're up and you're down_

He mimicked the way that her voice melted away, like the sound equipment was malfunctioning, with a flourish as he finished the song. Immediately after, he heard applause behind him and jumped a foot in the air, heart skipping a beat as he spun around quickly.

When he looked to see who was there, he came face to face with none other than Dean Fletcher. Dean smiled at him and raised his eyebrows, doing a quick once over. Suddenly realizing that he was stark naked, Blaine spontaneously turned bright red and quickly turned back around and cowering in the corner of his stall.

Unused to that kind of attention from another boy, he first felt a thrill of excitement travel up his spine, then immediately felt himself pale.

_YOU AREN'T FOLLOWING THE RULES._

His father's voice screamed in his head, cursing his stupid fag of a son. He looked at the ground for a moment, watching the water swirl around the drain between his feet, and steeled himself. He attempted to ignore Dean as he went back to washing his hair.

He had very little luck with that.

He stared straight ahead at the wall for a while as he washed the soap out of his hair, and couldn't see Dean until he walked up in the stall next to him. There's only a half wall that comes up to about mid-chest on Blaine, an inch or two lower on Dean, separating them. Blaine still had his hands in his hair, trying to push all the soap from his thick curls, and cast a side long, half obscured glance at the other boy, who puts on his best shit eating grin and promptly drops trow, placing his boxers on the wall between them. Blaine flushed even more and stared at the wall, grimacing.

Dean scoffed and went about his business, beginning to hum, then sing when he got to the chorus.

_You're so gay and you don't even like boys,_

_No, you don't even like,_

_No, you don't even like,_

_You don't even liiiii-ike boys._

Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he glanced over at the blonde. Dean wasn't paying much attention to Blaine, and he had his eyes shut to shield them from the shampoo that ran in rivers over his face and down his chest and back. Blaine swallowed thickly at the sight before him. He hesitated a moment, eyes flicking down, to the other's chest, then back up to make sure his eyes were still closed. After hesitating for just a second, he leaned over just an inch so he could peek over the wall separating them.

He turned red again and surreptitiously turned the water a little colder. He finished quickly after that and toweled off, ignoring the other as best he could. He pulled his clean underwear on while still in the stall and walked across the room to dry off and change.

As he finished pulling his shirt on, he couldn't help but notice the graceful curve of Dean's back, leading down to his backside…

He blushed again.

Blaine had seen other guys, of course, but he always tried not to look for too long in the locker room or wherever. He was always scared someone would catch him and then out him. But, Dean didn't seem to notice or, if he did, he didn't seem to care.

Worry nagged at the back of his mind. But, for the first time in a long time, Blaine really didn't care about the Rules. All he cared about was the fact that there was an extremely hot guy right in front of him. A guy he had secretly admired from afar for a long time. And now he was so close….

He forced himself to clear his head and quickly gathered up his stuff. He practically ran out of the bathhouse to the cabin.

A/N: Omg, guys! This chapter was sooooo long. This is one of the longest chapters I've ever written. Does that make up for making you wait so long? I hope so. haha. But! We're developing! Blaine and Dean are starting to build a relationship. Maybe they'll even -gasp- _speak_ to each other in the next chapter. lol.

Reviews are crack! Also, don't forget to go read all the stories affiliated with this universe! "Falling Apart" by gillasue345 (there's a link on my profile page) and "Caught", "Concussed", "Aggression", and "Safe" by yours truly!

Speaking of: Shout out to the bestest partner in crime EVER! The -dsey to my Shan-, Lindsey! Assbutt, you're a great inspiration, muse, soundboard, beta, and friend. And lots and lots of other things. Thanks for kicking me in the ass and making me write. Love ya!


	4. Annoyance

The next morning, Blaine woke slowly. He rolled over onto his back and stared blearily up at the ceiling. Suddenly, he remembered last night, in the shower. He felt a thrill of excitement race through him at the memory of looking at Dean and of Dean looking at him.

"Good morning."

Speak of the Devil. Or, think of him, rather. Blaine rolled over, rubbing at his eyes to try and dispel his sleepiness. He inhaled deeply, propping himself up. He looked at his cabinmate warily. The Rules were still in the back of his head, constantly reminding him what he wasn't supposed to associate with fags. But, hell, last night he'd pushed them out of his mind. He could ignore them for a while and at least be nice. It wasn't like he was going to go crazy, just be polite. That would be okay, right? Dean deserved that, at least.

"Morning," he said back to the blonde, who was selecting a shirt for that day. Dean's eyebrows shot up. Obviously, he hadn't expected a response. Blaine felt a pang of guilt at that. He knew he'd been horrible to Dean, not even just letting all that stuff happen to him at school, but ignoring and refusing to speak to him, too. He needed to make up for that, at least a little bit.

Dean smiled widely at him and he gave a small smile in return, just a slight quirk at one corner of his lips. He stood up, running a hand through his dark curls as he looked through his clothes absently as they fell into a more comfortable silence. He changed into a pair of denim shorts and pulled one of his old soccer shirts on over his head. He plopped back down on the edge of his bed to pull on socks, then a dark pair of Vans.

Dean finally selected a Rolling Stones shirt and pulled it over his head, walking to the mirror to brush out his blonde hair. Blaine stood and headed for the door, then paused.

"Hey," he said, turning back to face Dean, who looked up at him expectantly, "You wanna, uh, go grab breakfast together?"

Dean's lip tugged upwards into a smile that took Blaine's breath away. He never got to see that smile at school. Dean never had a reason to smile at school. "Yeah, lemme put my shoes on," he said and a few seconds later they were out the door.

Small talk came surprisingly easy between the two once they found a comfortable, lightweight subject to discuss. They eventually came to the subject of football and discovered that they were both Buckeyes fans. Dean, it seemed, had a cousin that played for them and had gotten to watch several games in a private box.

"No way, dude!" he exclaimed excitedly, "That's so cool!"

They chatted on about team stats and who they thought would do well next season and the draft. Before Blaine realized it, they'd been talking for almost an hour and he was smiling more than he had for a long time.

They tiptoed around each other for the rest of the day, each of them testing the waters with the other. Neither was sure how the other would react if they got too laid back and comfortable with the other. This was weird. Blaine wasn't used to being this relaxed around anyone, and Dean sure as hell wasn't used to interacting in any sort of positive fashion with Blaine.

Over the next few days they got along well. It was almost like they were normal friends and Blaine had never been among the boys that had tormented Dean for the past few years. Dean found that it was a lot easier to forgive Blaine than he would ever admit. The other boy, when he wasn't around the influence of Brandon and his gang of douchebags, was sweet and kind. The way he smiled shyly at him and how his curls bobbed when he moved was endearing. He was a completely different person than Dean remembered from school and he liked it. He actually found himself starting to consider him, dare he say it, a friend.

They had fallen into a routine of getting dressed in near silence in the mornings, with just little bits of sleepy conversation interspersed between pulling on clothing. Then whoever was ready first (usually Blaine) would wait by the door for the other to finish so they could head up to breakfast together. The first Friday there was also the first mail day. Almost all of the kids' names were called out and Blaine tuned the list out until one name caught his attention.

"CUUUUURLS!"

Blaine's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked at Abigail oddly from across the dining hall. Everyone around him seemed confused by the name. She just made a face and waved the envelope at him expectantly. In a bit of a daze, he stood and walked across the room and took it from her, he could hear a few people muttering about his nickname.

Maybe his step mother had written him a letter. He definitely missed Kate, even if he didn't miss his father.

As he walked back to the table to rejoin Dean, glanced down at the envelope. He stopped when he saw the slanted letters that spelled out his home address and that of the camp-his father's handwriting. He shook himself and sat down, immediately opening the letter. It was short, barely two lines long.

_Blaine,_

_I hope you are behaving and things have gone well so far. Remember to follow the rules. I will be there to check on you in July._

_Dad_

He paled. To anyone else, the letter would seem sparse and odd, but not threatening. I hope you're behaving. Follow the Rules. I will be there to check on you. Every sentence was laced with threats of punishment if he strayed from the course even a little bit. And what the hell was he doing right now? He glanced up at Dean, who was watching him curiously. He was eating breakfast with Undesirable No. 1, that's what. Not only was Dean gay, but he had a presence in his real life, someone who could persuade and seduce him back home, too. He was the devil next door, so to speak.

He felt his heart race at the thought of his dad finding out that he was socializing with his middle school's resident queer. He'd kill him. It'd be worse than when he caught him with the porn. He would literally kill him.

"Everything okay?"

Blaine's head snapped up when he was addressed. He looked at Dean, confused. He'd almost forgotten that he was actually there, sitting two feet away from him. He blustered clumsily for a moment, searching for his words, then regained his composure. "Uh, yeah, fine," he said as he stuffed the paper back into the envelope, which he then folded in half and stuck in his pocket.

He smiled faintly to Dean and then turned back to his breakfast. He quickly finished and stood. "Uh, I'll see you later, okay?" he muttered before practically running away to dump his tray.

Almost immediately, he found Abigail. He smiled at her. She was safe, right? His father would have no problem with him being friendly with his counselor. He was _supposed_ to be friendly with his counselor. Abigail was fair game, he decided.

"Hey, Curls. What's up? Who was the letter from?" she asked, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

Blaine frowned for a moment, then quickly smiled again. "Just my dad," he said as nonchalantly as he could.

"Cool. Any news?"

Blaine shrugged. "Just the regular stuff, I guess," he said. Yeah, the regular stuff. But, then again, thinly veiled threats were the norm for Blaine. Whatever. He just needed to clear his head and shake it off. His dad wasn't there right then, he wasn't watching him. He should enjoy himself. They'd probably go outside and do something, maybe run around for a while. That would make him feel better. Maybe he could convince the group to play a mini game of soccer. He could actually do something impressive and it'd be fun. Just the thing to lift his spirits.

Abigail nodded as she pulled away, ruffling his curls slightly. "Sooooo," she said as they came up on the door to the outside, "looks like we're stuck inside today. Boo." She pursed her lips.

Blaine frowned. _Awesome_.

"Hmmm…." Abigail turned, facing the rest of the dining hall. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, "Hey! Nixie!"

Blaine's brow furrowed then he saw Phoenix perk up. "Yes, my dear?"

Abigail beamed at him, winking. "My group and your group. Craft room. Whatddya say, bro?"

Phoenix gave a thumbs up and nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Lemme gather the troops and we'll regroup at home base, yeah?"

Abigail saluted. "Roger, Dude." She turned to Blaine. "You heard the man! Shoo, shoo. I'll go get the others." With that, she began to make her way across the dining half, zig-zagging between tables and gathering the others one by one.

~break~

Blaine was grumpy the whole damn day. It was _beyond_ Dean what was wrong with him. It had all started when he got that letter at breakfast and had only gotten worse the longer they were together inside.

Dean sat next to Blaine when they worked on the silly little projects they were making. Dean had a long piece of rainbow dip-dyed yarn and was weaving it over his fingers in a pattern he'd been taught was "finger knitting". He stopped when the loose-knit scarf he made was about 5 feet long, maybe a few inches more. He tied a knot and cut the string.

Blaine was silent the whole time, very absently working on whatever it was he was making (Dean wasn't sure, since it didn't really resemble anything he could make out). He practically oozed pissed off-ness.

"So, uh, wanna grab lunch together in a little bit?" Dean finally asked, attempting to make conversation after hours of uncomfortable silence between them amongst the happy chattering of everyone else in the room.

"I'm not hungry. You go."

"….okay, then," he said, frowning. What the hell was wrong with Blaine? "Are you okay?"

"Yes!" Blaine's reply was sharper than he'd expected. Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"If you say so…" he conceded with a shrug. What was he supposed to do?

After lunch, the two groups split up and Dean didn't see Blaine again for the rest of the day. He went back to his cabin at about 8 o'clock to find it empty. He stood in the doorway for a second, shaking his head to get rid of the excess water dripping from his blonde hair, and frowned. He shrugged to himself and kicked off his shoes by the door and walked in.

About a half hour later, Blaine finally showed up. Dean was hoping that he was in a better mood, but it seemed that nothing had improved. If anything, he seemed more irate. It had started storming a few minutes before Blaine had arrived and Dean could hear thunder rumbling quietly in the distance.

Dean watched silently from his bed, where he'd curled up with a book a few minutes ago, as Blaine slammed the door behind him and shed his wet shirt with gusto. He dropped it in a messy blob on the floor, kicking off his shoes and leaving them askew on his way towards his side of the cabin. He threw down his crappily made whatever it was on his night stand and jerked his suitcase out from under the bed, rummaging roughly through it for dry clothes. He slammed the lid shut and tugged on the zipper before standing and kicking it under the bed again.

The thunder was a little louder, now.

"Jesus, Blaine. Forceful, much?" Dean was totally not expecting the icy glare he received from his cabinmate, prompting him to put his hands up defensively. "Whoa, chillax, man." Blaine muttered something indistinguishable under his breath as he dropped his denim shorts and kicked them away, stepping into a pair of comfortable knit shorts. He tugged another t-shirt over his head and dropped onto his bed with a squeak and a bounce.

"Dude, what is _up_ with you, Blaine?"

"None of your damn business! Leave me the hell alone, Dean!"

"Whoa! Jesus! Chill _out_, Blaine!" Dean put his hand up defensively again.

"Shut up! Stop telling me what to do, dammit!" Blaine slammed his fist down on his bed and sat up, glaring angrily at the blonde.

"What's your damage, man? I'm just concerned about you. You've been acting like you've got a stick up your ass all day!" Dean frowned and his brow knitted together.

"Maybe if you'd butt the hell out of my life, you wouldn't have to deal with it, ever think about that?"

"I can't! We're cabinmates! I have to deal with you everyday for the rest of the summer! And _excuse_ me if I was under the impression that we were sort of friends. Things were nice the past few days. Until today, that is."

"We're not friends. Shut the hell up. You don't know crap about me!"

"God, Blaine! I'm sorry for making the mistake that you could be civil!" He was yelling now. They were both yelling. He lowered his voice and whispered at him, though it still held the tone of a yell. "I'll be sure to remember that you're just a douchebag jock _bully_ from now on!"

Blaine practically growled at that. "Well, at least i'm not a princess fucking fairy bitch! Dean the queen of the fag fairies!" Blaine threw his arms up in the air then jabbed his finger in Dean's direction.

Dean hadn't even noticed that they'd gotten close. They'd both taken a few steps across the room as they argued and met in the middle. Now their faces were just a few feet away, both red and angry and breathing heavily.

"Fuck you, Blaine!"

"Fuck you, too, Dean!"

And at that moment the storm grew a whole lot more aggressive and thunder exploded in the air, lightning lighting up the night sky. The window panes rattled and they both jumped, startled. Dean was surprised when he felt Blaine's hand encircle his wrist. For a wild moment he thought that Blaine was going to try to hurt him, but then he realized it wasn't a violent or angry gesture. It was more like a little kid clutching to a parent when something frightened them.

Them both stared in silence at their hands, Blaine's tan skin against Dean's lighter flesh. Then, when Dean looked up from their hands, Blaine was already staring up at him intently. It almost looked like he was searching for something. He almost looked like a friend in that moment. He almost looked accepting. He definitely looked beautiful.

Dean leaned forward, just the smallest fraction of an inch. His other hand dropped down, fingertips brushing against the other's hip lightly, but then he stopped.

No. No way was he going to kiss Blaine. It would just scare him off from what little, shaky friendship they'd built. He was hoping he could still salvage that, even after the fight they'd just had.

Just when he'd decided he was going to pull his wrist free and turn away, Blaine let go of his wrist and surged towards, going up on his tip toes. Blaine's hands went up to either side of Dean's face, pulling him down and their lips crashed together clumsily. It only took a second for Dean to reciprocate and they kissed heatedly for a few moments. But just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over and Blaine ripped himself away.

The cabin was silent, save for the rain tapping on the window and their ragged breathing. Dean steadied himself and looked up at Blaine, who looked as white as a sheet. He opened his mouth to say something, reaching out a hand towards him, but Dean just bit his lip, looking up at him like a frightened animal, and then turned tail and ran out of the cabin.

Dean was thoroughly dumbfounded and left alone to wonder, the screen door slamming shut behind Blaine. After a few minutes of trying to process what had just happened, Dean sighed and went after the other boy.

The warm summer rain soaked him again as he made his way towards the lake, where he could see Blain silhouetted on edge of the dock. He was sitting by the very edge, one leg pulled up to his chest and encircled by his arms, chin resting on his knee, and the other hanging over the gee, toes skimming the water. He just stared blankly out at the lake.

Dean stopped a few feet behind him, then slowly joined him, careful not to touch. He just plopped down next to him, dangling his own feet over the edge, and leaned back to stare up at the stars. Eventually, he shifted and looked out at the water, as well.

Normally, the moon reflected off the smooth surface, but tonight the water was all ripples from the falling rain. They were both soaked to the bone again and, even though it wasn't cold, Dean worried about one of them possibly getting sick.

"Let's go to bed, okay?" he asked softly, keeping his voice gentle.

After a moment, Blaine nodded. Then the two of them stood and walked back to the cabin together.

A/N: Well! I hope you guys liked that. Their first kiss! It was… unorthodox, I suppose. Sooooo much Blaingst. And this was sooo hard for me to write. But, if I know myself (and I think I do. lol) this will be getting a whole lot easier for me to write after this chapter and the first part of the next. So, hopefully, you'll be getting updates a lot sooner. =] Oh, also! That whole finger-knitting thing? Totally legit. I had a friend at summer camp make one for me out of rainbow colored yarn. It's so boss.


	5. Apprehension

They walked towards the cabin in silence. Blaine took very deliberate, very stiff steps. Inside his head was chaos.

_Oh my god. Oh my god. What did I just do? Did I… I really just did that. I kissed another boy. I kissed DEAN. Oh my god. He's going to kill me. _Blaine shivered slightly. He could already feel the blows. He just _knew_ that his father was going to take one look at him and just somehow know that he'd been breaking the Rules. And then he'd kill him.

He tried to control his breathing, but couldn't keep it from coming in short, shallow gasps. He was on the verge of hyperventilating and he could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, he felt a warm hand in his own. He stiffened at Dean's touch for a moment, then relaxed as he felt a sense of calm rush over him. He let out a heavy sigh as Dean's hand squeezed his. He paused, hesitating for a moment, then squeezed back gently before slipping his hand away and opening the door.

They changed into dry clothes in awkward silence and both climbed into their respective beds without a word. Blaine rolled over and faced the wall, staring into the darkness. He could hear Dean's soft breathing and feel his eyes burning into his back.

As he laid there, he tried to stay calm, but he felt the panic creeping up again. All he did was kiss someone he had a crush on. For a normal kid, that wouldn't be anything to feel guilty about. Maybe a little embarrassed, sure. But not terrified at what his parent would say about it. He shouldn't have to be scared that his father would find out and beat him senseless. Blaine _knew_ his life wasn't normal, but it was all he knew. It came to him on instinct, the fear of letting his guard down and being who he really was.

Blaine realized he was trembling and pulled his blanket higher up around him, squeezing his eyes shut tightly to try and keep himself from crying. He bit down on the blanket to keep silent. His body shook in silent sobs until he finally, gratefully, sank into sleep.

~break~

Dean had been surprised when Blaine squeezed his hand back the previous night. He reflected on the events as he got ready that morning. He dressed slowly in the empty cabin. He'd opened his eyes that morning just in time to see Blaine's back as he shut the door behind him, so he guessed they were back to Blaine avoiding him again.

Last night had completely thrown him for a loop and set his perception on a whole new track. First, they were fighting and Blaine was calling him a fag, then Blaine grabbed his face out of nowhere and kissed his breath away. It was mind boggling.

He sighed to himself as he headed out to breakfast. He didn't see Blaine anywhere and joined up with his small group afterwards. He twisted his ring as he sat at the table with Phoenix, waiting for the rest of the group to meet up with them. He chewed his lip nervously and stared down at the glinting silver as he continuously spun the ring around his thumb.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Phoenix when he leaned over and nudged him slightly. "You look super deep, man. What're you thinkin' about?" His counselor put an elbow on the table, cushioning his chin his palm, making the hemp bracelets on his wrist slide halfway down his arm.

Dean just shrugged, picking at his fingernails, staring down at them and bringing a finger up to his teeth to pull off a loose cuticle. Phoenix tilted his head at him and Dean shrugged again. "I dunno. Just, I'm not sure where I stand with Blaine right now. I thought we were getting along, but he's avoiding me again. I really… uh,I really want to be friends with him, but I'm not sure if we can, ya know?"

Phoenix nodded, looking very sagely for a minute even though he was only 23, not even really that much older than Dean. "Well, there's not much you can do if he's gonna be weird like that. You can only be as nice as possible and have your door open for him to be friends, yeah? Like…" he trailed off, thinking as he ran a hand back through his long hair, gathering it into a bun as he fanned himself and slid a hand along the back of his neck. "You can't force someone to like you, but from what I saw the past few days with you two being all buddy buddy, he does. So whatever the problem is, if it's something that you're both capable of getting over, then I think things will probably go back to normal."

Dean contemplated that advice for a moment and finally nodded. "Yeah… yeah. Thanks, Nix," he said, smiling.

Phoenix grinned at him. "No problem, bro. I do what I can."

After that, Beth shows up and slid into the seat next to Dean, greeting the two with a smile before leaning back and sighing heavily.

Beth was the only other camper besides Blaine that Dean had connected with at all. Maybe she was the only one, since he still had absolutely no clue where he was at with the other boy. But she was really nice. At the very beginning he hadn't really trusted her, but he hadn't really trusted anyone. He was wary coming here, just like he was at school. It seemed that most of the kids here were nicer than at his school.

Beth was thin and beautiful in an off-beat sort of way. She had a short, dark brown bob that could look sleek of messy, depending on the day and hazel eyes that were almost as pretty as Blaine's. Today she was wearing a pair of black spandex shorts that hit mid-thigh on her strong legs and a super baggy t-shirt that was cut around the neck, the neon pink strap to a sports bra showing.

She didn't waste a moment in stretching her legs out across Dean's lap. "I'm sooo tired!" she declared as she yawned and let her head drop back so that all they could see was the pale expanse of her throat.

Dean arched an eyebrow at her smoothly, flicking the top of her foot teasingly. "And why would that be? It's, like 10 o'clock."

"They wouldn't shut up in my cabin last night. I was up until, like, 4 listening to Jenny. Ugh. It was awful, Dean, just awful. I mean, I love her. She's a sweet girl. But I listened to her for _three hours_. I think that's a little bit too much." she said and kicked at his hand lightly.

Phoenix snorted at the two and rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming Lainey slept through the whole thing, right?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, nodding, "our wonderful counselor and resident curfew enforcer was out like a light at 9:30. They don't even pretend try and keep it down anymore, since they figured out she can sleep through anything."

They both laughed as the other's approached. Jenny Roark was talking a mile a minute, as usual. Her voice was strong and loud with a strong southern accent, but in a "southern belle" sort of way, not a "southern hick" way. She wore a flowered blouse with white short shorts. She talked merrily to Jon Hamilton as they approached, pulling her chestnut hair back into a ponytail.

Jon was usually pretty quiet, but was definitely full of spunk when he did have something to say. For the moment, though, he just listened to Jenny, hands stuck in the pockets of his cargo shorts as they walked and sneakers kicking up dust.

Eli wandered in about a minute after them. He was definitely the oddest in the group and Dean hadn't quite figured him out yet. He seemed to bond with Phoenix pretty quickly, though, and if Phoenix liked him, that was enough incentive for Dean to give him a chance. Eli always wore a beanie and had a camera around his neck.

He was constantly snapping picture of everyone and everything around them. His camera varied by day, even. Sometimes he just snapped quick snots with a digital Nikon, but today he had an old looking camera that shot with actual film slung around his neck. He looked very artsy as he paused and brought the camera up to his face, adjusting the scope to focus, and snapped a shot of Beth all stretched out across her chair and Dean's lap.

Last to arrive was Brian Grant. He was probably Dean's least favourite person at the entire camp. He was chubby and sweaty and gross, which would be a little disgusting, but not a deal breaker if he had a great personality and was a nice person. But, no. He was almost as much of a douchebag as Brandon from back home. He'd taken an instant dislike to Dean on the very first day and hadn't left him alone since. Of course, never in front of Phoenix or any of the other counselors-he was smart enough for that, at least.

When he joined them, Phoenix stood and clapped his hands. "Okay, childs," he said, like he did everyday at the beginning of group time, "today we're going to do something totally awesome. " He looked like he could barely contain his excitement. "Music! Anyone that plays an instrument is going to pitch in. We're all going to dance and sing."

Dean grinned. Oh, this would be fun. "Okay! So, who plays what? Don't be shy, tell us, even if you think you're not that good. We can make it 's all for fun," Phoenix said.

After a second, Beth spoke up. "I can play flute, sort of. But I'm actually a pretty good dancer, so that's what I usually do."

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. There was another dancer in his group. "I dance, too," he said, surprised, "But I can play a few instruments, too. Pretty basic guitar stuff. Cello. And harmonica, sometimes."

Phoenix smiled widely and nodded. "Good, good, who else?" he asked, looking around at the group.

"My grandpa taught me how to play a few things on the banjo and I mess around with his old one enough that I think I can probably pick up on things pretty quick," Jenny said.

"Saxophone, but I'm not the best," Eli admitted.

Jon shrugged. "I think I'm the outcast. Nothing. If you have a tambourine, I can shake it to the beat," he said and laughed as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

When all eyes turned to him, Brian finally spoke up. "I play trumpet. My parents made me join band, but I quit last year because the director was stupid," he said. Dean mentally rolled his eyes at that. "The teacher was stupid" probably _actually_ meant that Brian had caused trouble in class and the director got on to him all the time.

"Okay, this is perfect, guys! I'll be right back and we can jam. Uh… be good. I'm trusting you. Dean, you're in charge." He waved over his shoulder as he exited the room, still bursting with excitement.

They were all silent for a minute, before Brian sneered at Dean. "Why are you the pet all of a sudden, huh?"

Dean rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Dunno. Guess he just likes me. Must be my stunning personality."

Brian sneered again. "Whatever, I bet you're doin' something for him."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" Dean said, narrowing his eyes at him.

"I bet you're sucking his dick at night. You seem like the type," he said and laughed.

Dean scowled at the other boy, folding his arms across his chest. He wondered exactly when Brian had caught onto him being gay, or if he was just saying the most offensive, dirtiest thing he could think of off the top of his head. He wasn't ridiculously flamboyant or anything, but Dean certainly didn't try to hide the fact that he was gay. He never dropped any comments about how hot a girl was or anything to mislead people.

"Back off, Brian. You're an idiot," Beth said angrily, sliding her feet off his lap and planting them on the ground. She looked like she was about to stand up and fight Brian. Dean held up a hand to calm her down.

"Seriously? One, that's disgusting. He's our counselor. He's, like, 8 years older than me. Two, I deal with people who can come up with a lot more insulting shit than that. If you're gonna call me gay and mean it like an insult, at least drop the word fag and try to make it hurt, douchebag. Shut your freaking mouth. Jesus," Dean shot back at him.

Brian stood up, slapping his hands down on the table. "Oh, yeah? Well, why don't you make me, you fucking _fag_," he said.

It was at that moment that Phoenix and and Brendon entered the room. Phoenix was laughing and smiling, arms laden down with instruments, but his face fell and he frowned as soon as he felt the obvious tension in the room. He stopped and looked around, Brendon quickly picking up and stopping behind him, waiting to see how things played out.

"Problem, guys?" he asked slowly, looking between the kids-Beth and Dean together, both glaring daggers at Brian; Brian standing stiffly across the table from them, and the other three kids scattered awkwardly throughout the room.

"No, Phoenix, it's all good," Dean said, keeping his arms cross and not moving his eyes from Brian, "We were just having a friendly conversation." Then the tension broke as Dean slid his gaze from Brian over to Phoenix and Brendon. He smiled and stood up. "Dude, where did you find a cello around here?" he asked, smiling and taking the large instrument from Brendon. "Hey, Brendon," he added in greeting.

The other man smiled slightly at Dean. Brendon was their resident jack of all trades and, apparently, instrument closet. Dean hadn't really met Brendon yet but he _had_ noticed how gorgeous he was-as he was sure every girl at camp and Blaine had. He looked like he was mixed race, like a light skinned black guy. His hair was grown into long dreads. He hair most of them pulled back, but one of them swung loose around his face. The most striking thing about Brendon, though, was his eyes. They were pale, icy blue. With his skin colour, it was a big shock.

"Hello, Dean," he said, and Dean was surprised that he knew his name.

"I found out last night that my friend here had a secret closet in his room completely full of everything short of a baby grand. Seriously. He has, like, three guitars.

Phoenix tossed a tambourine Jon's way. Eli took a saxophone from Brendon and Phoenix handed a small flute case to Beth.

"I can't believe you have a banjo," Jenny commented as she took the instrument from Brendon's outstretched hand, smiling at him.

When Dean glanced over, Phoenix was setting a trumpet case in front of Brian and saying something softly to him, looking firm. Probably telling him to shape up.

Dean pulled out one of the chairs, sitting down with his legs spread, and pulled the cello out of the case, looking at it with reverence. He picked up the bow delicately, and ran it across the strings once. He closed his eyes and smiled as the sound floated in the air, a sweet relief to his ears.

"Nice, isn't it?" a voice asked from his left and Dean opened his eyes, realizing Brendon was standing beside him. He smiled and looked up at the other.

"Yeah. It's really nice. Very full. Where'd you get it?" he asked.

"Pawn shop in Chicago for about 20 bucks."

Dean whistled at the price. "Nice score!" he said, grinning. From across the room came the trill of a flute and he glanced over at Beth, who was holding the instrument delicately to her lips. She smiled at him and winked, playing a quick rhythm. He smiled back at her and ran the bow along the strings again, fingering the strings so he could play a slow tune to match hers.

They started out slow and tried to feel each other's rhythms out. After a few bars, Brendon flipped the guitar strapped to his back around and to the front and joined in. He kicked the melody up a bit and rocked as he played, slapping the strings every 8 beats. Eli came in with a flourish, scaling up through two octaves on the sax. Soon, Jon was shaking his tambourine and even Brian was squeezing out a few notes.

It wasn't a real song, and half of them weren't that great, but it was a good jam session. It took on a whole new level when Phoenix joined in and played a crazy double time beat, hands moving over the strings of his instrument with the kind of crazy grace that only long hours of practice and dedication could produce.

"What is that? A mandolin?" Dean asked, still playing a slow back beat.

"Bandolim!" Phoenix corrected, "They're basically the same. Bandolims are South American."

When things finally wound down, Brendon finished things, jamming hard on his strings for a few beats. Dean had his eyes closed half the time, extremely concentrated on the bow dragging across the strings and the sound of the very strange collection of instruments coming together.

He didn't open his eyes until he heard clapping from the doorway. His gaze shot that way and he saw another small group standing there.

Beside him, Phoenix cracked a wide smile. "Abby! You were spying, weren't you? You dog," he teased, walking towards her, holding out a hand. She smiled and laughed, stopping clapping as the rest of her group continued to applaud. She grasped his hand and they pulled together in a loose, one-armed hug around his bandolim.

Dean's eyes glossed over the kids around her and stopped when he saw Blaine. His cabinmate was standing just behind Abigail, slowly clapping and looking right at Dean. Their eyes met and he held the gaze, staring into Blaine's forced neutral face. After a few seconds, when the clapping died down, Blaine lifted his chin ever so slightly, then turned and walked away, down the hall.

Dean absently noted that Blaine's counselor called after him, saying, "Where're you going, Curls?" but he wasn't really paying attention, just watching his back recede.

Dean didn't see Blaine again for the rest of the day, until late that night, when Blaine finally came back to the cabin. He blatantly ignored Dean when he he greeted him and changed in silence before immediately going to bed and rolling over so all Dean could see was his dark curls.

Dean sighed and eventually turned off the light and went to sleep, himself. The next morning, Dean got up as Blaine was undressing and merely sat on the edge of his bed, staring at him. He wondered how uncomfortable he could make him feel before he broke down and said something to him.

Apparently he could do it for quite some time. Blaine cooly ignored him for 5 whole minutes as he got ready for the day, then left. Dean blinked in surprise.

"Fine. We'll play that game," he muttered to himself and stood up from his bed.

~break~

Blaine sighed as soon as he was out of the cabin. Damn. This was shitty. The entire situation, everything about it. It was all just plain shitty.

"Curls, I'm worried about you," Abigail said as she slid into the seat next to him.

Blaine frowned. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

"You're spacing all the time. I never see you with anyone, aside from those few days you were with your cabinmate. What's his name? Derek?"

"Dean," he corrected.

"Dean, right. Seriously, though, kiddo. You need to open up and let someone in a little bit. You're an awesome kid, Curls. There's no reason for the other kids here not to like you, if that's what you're worried about. It's gonna be a lonely three months if you don't. What about Terra? You're both as shy as all get out, so it might be hard for you to get the ball rolling, but she seems to like you," she said and nudged him playfully.

Blaine smiled fondly at his counselor. She really was a great person. And, for some reason, she'd taken a special liking to him. He still wasn't sure why, but he couldn't say he minded. He really liked her. She was the only person he felt really comfortable around.

He shifted uncomfortably as he picked at his eggs and shrugged once. "I dunno…. I just, I guess it's hard for me to make friends. I just… have trouble fitting in and feeling comfortable."

Abigail smiled at him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "No worries, Curls. You're a great kid. You're going to find your niche and it'll fit perfectly. You're young. Right now, and for a few more years, you're still trying to find yourself, as old and lame as that makes me sound. You don't know who you really are yet, but from what I can see, you're gonna turn out just fine. So cheer up, yeah?" she said and gave his bicep a light squeeze before pulling away and beginning to eat her own pancakes.

Of course he didn't know who he was. How the hell was he supposed figure it out when he was scared of it? Not to mention exploring and experimenting with different facets of his personality, like he knew other kids his age were. He didn't get that luxury. He played soccer, got good grades, and liked girls. According to his father, that's all he was allowed to do. He didn't sing and dance.

And he sure as hell didn't like boys.

No, there was no way he knew "who he was". He was never allowed to let the real him out. Blaine sighed around a forkful of eggs. Abigail meant well, he knew. But she didn't know what was up with him, really. Even if the words she said weren't comforting, the fact that she cared at all made him feel a little bit better.

He swallowed, then smiled at her. "Thanks, Abigail," he said.

Later, after breakfast was over, he caught sight of Dean, and quickly diverted his course into the bathroom to hide. He mentally cursed himself when he heard the other boy's voice outside the door, telling whoever he was with that he was going to catch up in a minute.

Blaine panicked for a second, before running into the last stall in the row. He closed the door, locking it securely, and pulled his feet up. Hopefully Dean would just stop at a urinal and not even know there was anyone else in the bathroom at all.

He heard Dean enter then, as he'd hoped, he stopped at a urinal to relieve himself. Blaine spent the whole time Dean was in the room holding his breath, attempting to be quieter than silence. Apparently it worked, because barely a minute later Dean was gone and Blaine let out a heavy sigh of relief.

His heart was beating so fast and hard that he could hear it in his ears. Dean had this effect on him-always had. Even back at school, Blaine would find himself catching sight of the blonde boy in the halls and would divert his course if it wouldn't cause suspicion. Ever since the day that Dean had first come out, Blaine had been completely mesmerized with him.

He was so much braver that Blaine could ever be, that was for sure. Even if his home situation was… more favorable, he wasn't sure he could tell everyone he knew that he was gay. He would lose all his friends. He would be a freak.

_Because being a freak in secret and pretending to be normal is sooo much better_, he thought bitterly.

Sure, whatever. He was a freak-a fag.

But, now… he had actually kissed a boy. He had kissed _Dean_. He found himself thinking back on that moment last night. He didn't know what the hell he had been thinking, just grabbing his face and kissing him like that. Seriously. But, still… it was awesome.

Dean hadn't responded at first and he'd almost been ready to pull away, but when he did, boy was he glad that he hadn't. Their lips fit perfectly together and it lit a fire in his gut like nothing with Bree ever did. _That_ was how kissing was supposed to feel, and he knew it. It wasn't supposed to be forced, like he had to do with Bree.

Blaine shook his head. No. No, he wasn't going to think about that. Because it was _never_ going to happen again. He opened the stall door and left the bathroom quietly to go join his group for whatever activity they had planned for the day.

That night, Blaine steeled himself before entering the cabin. He knew Dean was in there, waiting for him. He would just get his soap and a towel and leave as quickly as possible. Then, when he came back, he'd go straight to sleep.

As soon as he opened the door, Dean perked up and smiled big at him. God, that smile was breath taking. He never got to see it directed at him during school. Usually because Dean was being heckled by Blaine's "friends" whenever they were around each other.

"Hi! I haven't seen you all day!" Dean said, his voice extra chipper. Blaine did his best to ignore him and avoid eye contact. "It was so hot today, wasn't it? We were outside most of the time. Phoenix set up a scavenger hunt. One of the things we had to find was an acorn with a star etched into it. Do you have any idea how many acorns there are around here? Lots. It took forever!"

He rambled on happily, seemingly unaware that Blaine was ignoring him. Or not caring. Either way, he was eerily happy and it was making Blaine uncomfortable. He crouched by his bed, picking up his shower caddy.

"Oh, are you going to take a shower? Perfect! I need to take one, too. I'll just grab my stuff and we can go together!" With that, Dean hopped off the edge of his bed and began to gather his things.

Blaine paled, but still didn't say anything to the other. What was he supposed to say? "No! Don't take a shower."? Yeah, like that would work.

He made no point in waiting for Dean, but the other boy was ready to go just as soon as he was. He chattered on about something-Blaine was trying his best not to listen-as they walked to the shower house. There was one other guy who was just leaving as they entered the room.

Blaine looked at the empty rows of stalls. He tired to figure out a way to get away from Dean, but he was sure that Dean would just choose the shower stall beside his, no matter which one he picked.

It was awkward to undress in front of Dean, especially with the other still rambling on about the stupid scavenger hunt while he was trying to pretend he didn't exist.

He stripped to his underwear and took his towel with him to the shower stall, awkwardly taking his boxer briefs off and then starting the water. Soon enough, Dean sidled up beside him and started his own shower. He hummed under his breath, singing softly every now and then.

Blaine stared straight ahead the whole time, trying his best to tune out Dean's extremely melodic voice and not look at his beautifully toned chest. Since his world had narrowed to a shower head an two handles, it caught him off guard when Dean leaned over close to him.

"Your shampoo smells great," he said, inhaling deeply. Blaine jumped a foot off the ground and whipped his head around to stare at Dean. His jaw dropped slightly at the audacity the other boy had.

But, Dean just ignored the incredulous look and continued on. "What kind do you use? It smells soooo good! Like, kind of flowery, but not really. What brand is it?" He paused, then, as if he actually expected an answer. Blaine just stared at him in silence for another few seconds before slowly turning back to the wall and finishing shampooing his hair.

He finished up as quickly as possible and escaped before Dean was done. By the time the blonde got back to the cabin Blaine was already pretending to be asleep.

For three whole days Blaine continued his act of not pretending Dean didn't exist. It was hard, but he managed it. He could tell that Dean was getting more and more agitated as time went on. His exasperated sighs grew more and more frequent when his attempts to crack Blaine failed. It was starting to wear on Blaine, too. Dean had been his secret crush for almost a year and his presence was captivating. Blaine found it hard to look away from him, not to mention not looking at him at all.

So, on the fourth night, when Blaine entered the room to find Dean waiting patiently for him, he was not surprised to feel a shift in the tension between them. It was more serious and palpable than it had been before. Blaine flicked his gaze at the blonde for half a second, then turned to make his way towards his side of the room. In one fluid movement, Dean was across the room and had his hand clamped tightly around Blaine's wrist.

He froze at the touch and felt his muscles tighten. He wanted to say something, but he never did. He just stood there, waiting for Dean to let go. He could hear his heart speed up and felt himself breaking out in a cold sweat, just from one touch.

"Just… stop, Blaine." Dean finally said.

Silence hung heavily in the air and Blaine could sense Dean growing more and more agitated, thinking that Blaine was going to completely ignore him again.

"Stop what?" Blaine said softly and turned to face him, his breath refusing to come. Dean didn't let go of his wrist.

"Stop… this!" He waved his free hand between them, "This stupid game. Stop ignoring me. Stop pretending like nothing happened. Stop… stop _fighting_ it. It's okay, it really is. What are you so afraid of?" At first, his tone was irritated, but by the end it had softened into an almost whisper. He took a step closer to Blaine, invading his personal bubble. His eyes softened as he looked down at Blaine.

Blaine turned away. He just wanted Dean to leave him alone so it wouldn't be so hard to pretend anymore. If Dean wasn't right in front of his face, he could pretend to be normal. It was like a sickness, and Dean made his fever spike. Just as quickly as he'd turned away, Dean tugged him back roughly and Blaine turned to face him again. They were closer this time. He stared ahead at Dean's lips, swallowing thickly.

One hand came up and gently touched his cheek and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, wanting everything to just go away, but wanting to feel everything even stronger at the same time. The hand holding his wrist slackened and went to rest on his hip. Blaine let his hand touch softly on Dean's forearm, the touch electric.

Then lips pressed softly against his forehead and Blaine bit his lip. This…. this was how it was supposed to be, nothing like how it was when he was faking it with Bree. This was real and this was natural. _This_ was what he'd been craving.

When Dean pulled away, Blaine leaned forward slightly, his body moving of it's own accord to preserve that contact that he longed for. But, soon after, Dean let his palm slide from Blaine's face and he pulled his hand from his hip.

Suddenly, Blaine felt cold even though the summer night was hot and balmy.

**A/N:** Okay, guys! Whew! That chapter was quite the doozy! Ummmmm…. hope you liked it? Reviews are like crack for me. =] And I'm definitely an addict. Lindsey and I refer to it as a "drug deal" when we send each other tide bits of what we've written so far before it gets posted. Haha. I love feedback of any sort.

Anyway, oh my god, guys! I got to go see Darren Freakin' Criss in concert last week. And let me tell you! He was AMAZING! It was literally the best night of my life and I got to spend it with the other half of Shandsey. Also, we definitely just happened to be sitting beside two girls who had read Falling Apart and the rest of the universe. They said that and we both nearly fainted. I feel like a celebrity. xD Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed it and I can promise you guys a nice, loooong span of happy, fluffiness after this =]


	6. Anthem

A/N: Hey, guys! Soooo…. I probably should've put this warning on her a chapter or two ago, but better late than never, right? There's cussing. Hardcore cussing. You've been warned. As Darren might say: "This is for big StarKids only!" xD Venture forth (and hopefully enjoy!) at your own risk.

Blaine woke up the next morning to light filtering in through the blinds on the window. After he'd sunk into his bed the previous night, things were fuzzy so he assumed he'd fallen asleep relatively quickly.

He laid in bed for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling before turning his head to see a sleeping Dean.

The blonde looked so cute when he slept. He had his hands pulled up, curled underneath the pillow, and half of his face was all squished from the pressure of the bed below. He was even drooling a little. Blaine smiled at this as he quietly stood up and began to change, hoping he wouldn't wake Dean.

He was almost done when the other stirred and sat up, stretching and yawning. "Good morning," he said as he swung his feet off the edge of the bed.

Blaine paused for a moment, still lacing up one of his shoes. Then he made up his mind and smiled timidly at Dean. "Morning."

Blaine hovered for a second. He didn't want to be around Dean-it was too hard-but he was tired of pretending like he didn't exist. It made him feel guilty, and it was really hard to do.

"So… you wanna grab breakfast? I can get ready in, like ten minutes." Dean stood, looking hopeful.

Blaine bit his lip. He wasn't sure what to do, really. He sort of wanted to spend time with Dean, but also knew he shouldn't get too attached and should try to distance himself. So, of course, he gave the half-assed answer. "Uh. I'm gonna go ahead and go, but I'll meet you there, okay? You can come sit by me… if you want to. If you don't want to, that's cool, too. But you can definitely sit with me," he rambled, then abruptly stopped himself. "But, I'm just gonna…" he pointed to the door before turning and leaving.

God, he was an idiot.

Blaine sighed as he sat down at a table by himself. He made sure to organize his plate before he ate his breakfast, pushing the food around on his plate so that it was neat and orderly. His scrambled eggs took up exactly half of the plate. His two triangles of toast were laid neatly on top of each other, and his two strips of bacon lay parallel to one another.

Just as he was taking his first bite, Abigail slid into place beside him, Phoenix next to her. "Hey, Curls!" she greeted and ruffled his curly mop of hair.

He ducked his head and smiled up at her. "Hey, Red," he said and poked his tongue out between his lips, grinning again.

"There's those pearly whites! I don't think I've seen those since the first day of camp. You're so cute when you smile, y'know that, Curls? You should for sure do it more often," she said and elbows him softly in the ribs.

Phoenix nodded and laughed. "Definitely, definitely. Very handsome, dude. Like an adorable little puppy, just inviting you to play."

Blaine blushed at that. Compliment from Abigail he was used to, but from a cutie like Phoenix? That made him self-conscious. Suddenly, Dean plopped down beside him and smiled brightly. That only made his blush deepen. Luckily, he was able to hide it by looking down and picking up his toast.

"Hey, Stretch!" Phoenix greeted, eerily similar to the way that Abigail routinely greeted Blaine. They both picked out similar nicknames for their favourite camper, too. Curls, obviously for Blaine's crazy hobbit hair, and Stretch because of the fact that Dean was half a head taller than most of the other boys their age.

"Hey, guys. Blaine," he greeted brightly, smiling at his cabinmate. Blaine's lips twitched slightly in response.

"So, we have an idea for the two of you," Abigail said, through a mouthful of oatmeal, waving her spoon between the two boys, "Since Brendon _and_ Phoenix _both_ failed to mention the fact that Brendon owns basically every instrument made by man, we're going to have a joint camp fire sing along!" She looked like she was going to burst with excitement.

Blaine turned to Dean and saw that he was doing the same. They blinked at each other once, then both turned back to her and shrugged in unison.

"Sure."

"Yeah, sounds cool."

Abigail looked appalled at them. "Geez, guys! Don't be excited or anything," she grumbled and looked like she was about to pout. Phoenix held back a snicker at her dismay.

"No, no!" Blaine said, holding up his hands in defense, "It sounds awesome. It really does. What're we gonna sing?" he asked.

"Wellllll, about that," Abigail said, devious grin returning to her face, "I was thinking that you and Brendon could play guitar for us."

Blaine gave her an appraising look and he saw Dean turn towards him out of the corner of his eye. "You play guitar?" the other boy asked.

Blaine's gaze flicked his way and he nodded. "Uh, yeah. I started teaching myself a few years ago. And my mom has taught me some violin, over the years," he said and then turned back to Abigail, "The real question is, how did _you_ know, Abigail?"

Abigail just rolled her eyes and pointed her spoon at him again. "The violin thing is news to me, but did you seriously expect me not to notice those intensely calloused fingers? No one has callouses like that unless they're really good. Or really bad and just trying super hard. I'd venture to guess that you're the former, yeah?"

Blaine shrugged. "I dunno… I'm okay, I guess. For someone who was self-taught, anyway."

"Like you don't have an awesome singing voice?" Phoenix said incredulously and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, how do _you_ know what I sound like when I sing? I've barely even hummed in front of Abigail!" he said, giving the counselor a pointed look before spearing a bite of scrambled eggs.

Phoenix grinned sheepishly at him. "I heard you in the showers the other night."

Blaine's jaw dropped and Dean broke out in a fit of giggles beside him, which he immediately stifled by biting down on his bottom lip.

Blaine made an exasperated sound and threw his hands up in defeat. "Is _everybody_ spying on me! I feel like there's a conspiracy going!"

Abigail smiled at him. "Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Curls. Hurry up and finish your breakfast."

Blaine arched an eyebrow at her. "I'm full," he said.

"Good, good. Now you're banished." He creased his brow in confusion. "Go! Off to Brendon with you!" she flicked her hands at him, "He's in his room. Number 3, down the hall where the craft room is. Shoo, shoo!"

Blaine sighed, glanced around the table once more, and then stood and made his way towards the aforementioned hallway. He approached slowly. What was he supposed to say to Brendon? "Hi, I'm here for your guitar"? That seemed a little blunt.

As he came close, he could hear music floating softly through the air. When he got closer, he could make out the words and was surprised to recognize Brendon's voice.

_I'm the king's thirty-second son_

_and all it too was thirty second's time_

_But a spoiled little prince I was not_

_Had a chamber maid and a chamber pot_

_And there's thirty-one others just like me_

_There's thirty-one others I can be_

Blaine hated to interrupt, but he knocked softly on the door. He heard the sound of a hand slapping against guitar string to stop the sound and a second later Brendon's voice. "Hey! Come in."

Blaine pushed the door open gently and entered. "Hi," he said, smiling very slightly at him.

"Blaine, right? Abigail told me to be expecting you. We're gonna jam around the campfire, yeah?" Brendon was warm and inviting. He seemed like an old soul and, Blaine decided after a moment, it was the eyes that did it. He was only in his early twenties, maybe even still a teenager, but his eyes crinkled a little when he smiled and seemed to carry a weight along with the ability to pierce you with even just a casual look.

"Uh, yeah," he said, pulling himself out of his reverie. He stepped a little further into the room. "Was that Regina Spektor?" he asked.

Brendon's eyes shot up. "Yeah. Oedipus. You know Regina?"

Blaine grinned at him. "Yeah, yeah. Totally. I love her!"

"Well, let's play something by her, then. We can get warmed up and get a little bit of a feel for each other before we have an audience," he said and laughed slightly. Brendon beckoned him over, picking up and holding out the second guitar that was on the bed with him.

"Okay. Uh, what're we gonna play?" he asked.

"You pick. I know most of her stuff pretty well."

"Okay," Blaine said, then paused to consider. Samson?"

Brendon dipped his head in ascent. "Of course."

"Do you want right hand or left?" he asked. Most of Regina's music was typically played on a piano and, since there were two of them, the logical choice would be to split it up high and low, like the left and right hand on the piano.

"I'll take left. Lemme see what you can do. And we can both sing," Brendon suggested.

Blaine smiled once at him and nodded. He pulled the strap of the guitar over his shoulder and slid his fingers over the strings, plucking them each once to test out the sound. It was tuned perfectly and sounded like it was in excellent shape.

"Okay," he said, running his hand through his hair once before starting with the opening harmonies, quickly following it up with the words. Brendon joined in quickly with the low chords and added his voice to the mix of slow, graceful swells.

_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first, I loved you first_

_Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth_

_I have to go, I have to go_

_Your hair was long when we first met_

_Samson went back to bed_

_Not much hair left on his head_

_He ate a slice of Wonderbread _

_And went right back to bed_

_And history books forgot about us _

_And the Bible didn't mention us_

_The Bible didn't mention us, not even once_

_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first , I loved you first_

_Beneath the stars came falling on our heads_

_But they're just old light_

_They're just old light_

_Your hair was long when we first met_

_Samson came to my bed_

_Told me that my hair was red_

_Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed_

_I cut his hair myself one night_

_A pair of dull scissors and the yellow light_

_He told me that I'd done all right_

_And kissed me until the morning light, the morning light_

_And he kissed me until the morning light_

_Samson went back to bed_

_Not much hair left on his head_

_Ate a slice of Wonderbread_

_And went right back to bed_

_We couldn't break the columns down_

_No, we couldn't destroy a single one_

_And the history books forgot about us_

_And the Bible didn't mention us_

_Not even once_

_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first _

By the end of the song, Blaine had his eyes closed. It was slow and sweet and he'd always loved it. It was a song about loving someone without question and with your whole heart. It was always love songs that had very personal touches that got to Blaine the most-like getting up in the middle of the night to eat a slice of bread then going back to sleep.

He opened his eyes a few seconds after the last note from his guitar had faded into silence to find Brendon watching him. "Very good, man. Like… _really_ good. You've got a musician's soul."

Blaine's mouth hurt he was smiling so big. It wasn't everyday you got a compliment like that from someone as good as Brendon seemed to be. And if the little he'd heard was any judge, Brendon was amazing. The fact that he owned fifty or so instruments was a big hint, too.

"Thanks, Brendon. You too, man. Your voice is so smooth. Like, I bet you kill at jazz."

Brendon smiled. "I've been known to to sing a little Sinatra and Bublé," he said and stood. "Okay, so. We've got our guitars. You know some camp songs, right?"

Blaine shrugged. "A few, I guess. But They're all mostly just chords, right? I think I can pick up pretty quickly on what I don't know."

Brendon nodded and checked his pockets, locating his keys, and nodded a second time. "Okay. Let's go," he said and jerked his head towards the door.

They chatted amiably the whole way to the campfire, where Abigail and Phoenix had just succeeded in starting up a small blaze. Not that they really needed it, but he could hear Phoenix insisting that it wasn't really campfire songs if there was no fire.

Abigail and a thin girl with a short bob was by Phoenix's side, seemingly instructing him on how to make the fire taller. The other kids from the two groups were mingling well, except for two-Dean and another boy that Blaine vaguely recognized. Brian, he was pretty sure. They were standing a little ways off from the rest of the group and looked like they were arguing. Brian was leaning into Dean's personal space, trying to be intimidating, and Dean had his arms folded over his chest, much in the same stance that he took whenever Brandon was getting in his face back at school.

As Brendon called out to Abigail and walked over to stand beside her, Blaine pulled the guitar off his back, setting it carefully on the ground as he approached the pair. When he got closer, he could hear what they were saying.

"…and go fuck yourself, asshole." That was Dean.

"Fuck you, you fairy. You can't say shit to me."

"Hey!" Blaine interjected, sidling up beside Dean. He felt his anger rising. Dean dealt with this shit enough back home. He didn't need it during the short three month escape he was granted. "Leave him alone, douchebag."

Brian turned his glare on Blaine, narrowing his eyes, then turned back to Dean, who was looking at Blaine with a shocked expression. "What, now you've gotta have your boyfriend fight your fights for you? You're such a little pussy!" Blaine twitched slightly, his temper rising a little bit more.

"Leave him out of this, Brian," Dean said, unfolding his arms and jabbing one finger into the other boy's chest.

"You're both just fags!" Brian said and shoved Dean back a step.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Blaine yelled and leapt at Brian. He hit him somewhere in the gut, feeling the breath leave the heavier boy's body as he was tackled to the ground. His anger had boiled over at the sound of that word and conscious thought stopped. Just rage remained.

Distantly, he heard Dean's, Phoenix's, and Abigail's voices, yelling at him.

"Blaine! Stop!"

"Oh, they're fighting! Shit!"

"Whoa! Whoa, Curls!"

He heard them, but didn't respond or react. He just tried his best to punch Brian's face in. After about three punches, Brian got his head back on straight and pushed Blaine hard in the chest, tipping so that they rolled over a few times, battling for dominance. They came dangerously close to the fire, kicking up some of the ashes that had settled around it, before Brain got on top and punched Blaine in the forehead.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Phoenix, Brendon and Mike pulled Brian off of Blaine and back a few steps. As soon as he could get to his feet, head reeling slightly, he tried to lunge for him again, but was stopped.

Abigail's hand caught the back of his collar at the last second and Dean practically threw himself at Blaine, looping his arms tightly around his abdomen.

"Blaine!" they shouted in unison.

After a second of struggling, Blaine relaxed and slumped over, panting and dizzy.

"Abigail. What do we do?" Phoenix asked from over by Brian.

She paused for a second, probably trying to figure out what to do. "Let's get Brian to the infirmary, since he's got a bloody nose. Dean, take Blaine back to your cabin. I'll be there soon. Brendon, you can be in charge for a little bit, right?" She glanced the other boy's way.

He looked startled, then nodded. "Uh, yeah. I think I can handle it," he said, eyes sweeping over the group. "Please… nobody else tackle anyone."

"Come on," Dean said softly, not quite letting go of him, but loosening his grip. One hand was fisted in the back of his shirt and the other palm laid flat against Blaine's stomach, applying a slight pressure.

Blaine didn't take his eyes off of Brian until Dean moved around, pressing both hands against his chest. "Let's _go_," Dean urged and Blaine ripped his eyes away from the target of his rage to look up at Dean and felt all resistance drain from his body. Obviously, Dean felt it, too, because he stopped pushing on his chest and put a hand on his shoulder to guide him.

When they got back to the cabin, Blaine had worked himself up into a rage again. He threw down his keys as Dean closed the door softly behind them. He paced and Dean sat down calmly on his bed.

"What… what the _fuck_ is that prick's problem? He's such a douchebag!" Blaine ranted, gesturing wildly with his hands and running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly.

"Blaine," Dean said softly.

"I mean, like, seriously! You didn't do shit to him!"

"Blaine," Dean said, a little louder this time.

"He had no right to get in your face like that! I-"

"Blaine!" Dean interrupted, eyebrows raised high.

Blaine stopped and dropped his hands to his side, turning to Dean. "What?" he asked.

"Thank you," Dean said pointedly as he crossed one leg over the other.

Blaine looked surprised, as if he hadn't realized he did anything worth thanking, then ducked his head and blushed. "Yeah, well, you don't deserve that shit. Especially not here, at camp," he muttered, shifting his gaze uncomfortably and rubbing the back of his neck.

Dean smiled slightly and laid back on his bed. Blaine calmed himself and went to his own bed to wait for Abigail to come tell him how he was being punished.

A/N: Whoa, an entire chapter without any time breaks of perspective jumps. Soooo, I know I promised you fluff and… at least it's not fighting between the two of them! But the next chapter is called Affection, if that says anything. So, here comes the fluff!


	7. Affection

"Abigail is such a softie. I guess it's lucky you're her favourite."

Blaine smiled at that and nodded. "I mean, we both had the same story… and I apologized."

They were sitting in their cabin later that day during the allotted amount of "free time" that they had in between small group activities and events for the entire camp. Abigail and Phoenix had called off campfire songs, but the two groups had been promised that it would recommence later that night.

Brian was back in his own cabin, exiled until lunch just like Blaine and Dean were. Dean hand't actually done anything to warrant punishment, but he didn't complain. The two cabinmates' stories had corroborated and Brian had been the one to start it. Of course, Blaine had been the one to tackle him, but he had defended his actions by pointing out the fact that Brian had shoved Dean and looked like he was about to take a swing.

When Blaine had explained this to Abigail, she'd just crossed her arms over her chest and shot a pointed look his way. As punishment, Blaine and Dean would have to thoroughly clean out the small boat house that sat on the edge of the lake the next day. It would only take a few hours, if the two of them worked together. All in all, their punishments were nothing that they couldn't easily deal with.

A few minutes of small talk later, they fell into slightly uncomfortable silence again. This time, though, it wasn't because they were fighting or Blaine was ignoring Dean-they simply didn't know what to say to each other. Their situation was rather… unique, after all.

After about 30 seconds of agonizing awkwardness, Blaine went over to his side of the room and pulled out his Rubik's cube. He never figure the damn thing out. It was ridiculous, watching some kids solve them in, like 10 seconds. He'd had this thing for almost 2 years and it hadn't been solid since it came out of the packaging.

He fumbled around with it, twisting it at random for a few minutes before Dean spoke up.

"Oh my god… I can't watch this anymore. I need to teach you some algorithms," he said and got up from where he'd been perched on his bed.

"Alga-whats?" Blaine asked, brow creasing.

Dean merely held up a finger to indicate for Blaine to wait, which he did patiently. He fumbled around in his own bag for a moment before pulling his own worn out cube. It looked like it'd been put through the ringer. The white squares were darkened and stained and the colour had begun to fade off on some of the other panels. A few of the stickers were peeling around the edges.

He crossed the room and plopped down on the edge of Blaine's bed, about half a foot away from him. Blaine became hyper aware of their proximity immediately. It wasn't _bad_, like Blaine had considered it to be before. And he wasn't mentally freaking out over it, like he had in those few moments when he pretended like the Rules didn't exist and he got to be a boy with a crush. It was just… nice. Like when someone leaned in extra close to tell you a secret.

"Here, lemme see that for a sec," Dean said, taking the puzzle from Blaine's hands and twisting it rapidly for 15 or 20 seconds. When he handed it back it was solved all but one edge piece that was turned the wrong way. Their fingers brushed when Dean handed it back to him and Blaine felt a shiver slither up his spine.

He tried to listen as Dean started in on a long spiel about how to solve the most basic of problems on the Rubik's cube, he really did, but it was all very complicated and he kept getting distracted by watching Dean's graceful fingers move over the puzzle as he demonstrated.

"So, do you get it?" Dean asked as Blaine tuned back into his explanation. He stared at him for a long moment, desperately wracking his brain for the formulas Dean had just explained to him. He vaguely remembered some complicated math, but had no idea what any of it meant.

"Uhhh…." He said, staring blankly at Dean.

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, setting his own Rubik's cube down on the bed. He scooted closer until they were hip to hip and reached around Blaine's shoulders. Instantly, Blaine stiffened and felt heat rush to his face. But Dean either didn't notice, or ignored it, because he just put his hands over top of Blaine's and began showing him how to twist the puzzle.

Blaine didn't even pay attention to how his hands were moving, just how Dean's hands were moving on top of his. After a minute, he realized that Dean had stopped talking and their hands weren't moving anymore. He shivered slightly and watched in awe as Dean slowly shifted his hands over his so that their fingers fit together. Blaine let the Rubik's cube drop to his lap as Dean squeezed his hand, lacing their fingers together. Blaine curled his fingers around the other boy's in response.

When he felt Dean shift even closer, Blaine turned his head towards Dean and realized their faces were only a few inches apart. He felt butterflies flutter in his stomach as Dean's eyes flicked down to his lips, staying half hooded. The blonde leaned forward slightly, just barely nudging Blaine's cheek with the tip of his nose.

Blaine inhaled shakily and let the rest of his body relax more, dropping their hands onto his lap. He closed his eyes and leaned forward to connect their lips.

But, before they met, the Rubik's cube slid off his lap, clattering loudly to the floor and he jumped at the noise, breaking the spell. Dean jolted slightly, as well, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. They stared at one another for a silent moment before Dean cleared his throat and pulled away, leaning down to pick up the Rubik's cube.

"Well, uh, you just need some practice, if you want to actually figure out how to solve it. We can try again some other time," Dean said and rubbed the back of his neck. He stood, grabbing his own Rubik's cube and went back to his own bed.

An hour passed in relative silence, with only short bursts of conversation sprinkled randomly throughout the time. Eventually, Dean stood up and stretched, laying down the book he'd been reading.

"I think it's lunchtime. What about you?" he asked, grabbing his sneakers and pushing his feet into them.

Blaine jumped up. "Yeah. I'm hungry," he agreed.

They walked up the path together in companionable silence, and quickly found table to sit at. Shortly after they began eating, one of the girls from Dean's group slid into the seat next to him.

"The rumor mill has been a'flurry since you guys got banished. Nice right hook, by the way," she said, very matter-of-factly, as she picked up a carrot stick and snapped the end off between her teeth.

Dean grinned at her and rolled his eyes. "Blaine, this is Beth. Beth, you already know Blaine," he said, gesturing between them.

Blaine smiled at her and waved. "She already knows me?" he asked curiously.

"He talks about you some," she said with a shrug. Blaine glanced at Dean, raising an eyebrow curiously. Dean ducked his head slightly and shrugged, concentrating on his food.

"But, anyway, you clobbered him. I hope his nose is broken. It was bleeding," she said, grinning.

"Yeah," Blaine said with a shrug, "I, uh, I get in a lot of fights, so…" he shrugged again. he felt Dean's eyes flick towards him. It was his turn to look down at his food. Dean's gaze lingered for a moment.

"Speaking of fighting…" he said and leaned towards Blaine. Blaine sat up straight, unsure of what Dean was doing. Blaine's eyes crossed when Dean's fingers brushed the curls away from his forehead and delicately swept across a spot on his forehead he hadn't realized was sore until it was touched. "You've got a bruise."

Blaine frowned slightly, then shrugged. "Well, he did punch me. It's okay, though. No big deal." Dean's fingers lingered on his forehead for a moment longer than strictly necessary, but Blaine couldn't say that he minded.

The three of them ate lunch, chatting amiably throughout the meal. They walked together to the main hall, where the entire camp was gathering. Abigail and Phoenix stood at the front of the big room and the rest of the staff and counselors were all encircling the perimeter of the group.

As the last of the campers arrived, Abigail quieted everybody down. "So, guys. Today we're going to play a game."

There were mixed reactions and she shot a crippling look at one boy who sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. He cringed and looked down. Blaine grinned at her ability to flip personalities in half a second. It was a talent, really.

"Anyway," she continued with a harumph, "We're going to play a giant game of simon says. Sounds _awesome_, right?" she said, shooting a hard look at the boy who had sighed earlier. He put on a fake smile and nodded cheekily.

"Good," she said, smiling widely at him.

"Soooo!" Phoenix cut in, spreading his arms wide and addressing the entire group again, "The lovely Miss Abigail," he paused and gestured to Abigail, who struck a pose, "and I will be a joint mind named Simon. We will be giving you directions. But, sometimes the Phoenix and Abigail come through and over power the Simon-mind and try to lie to you to get you to do things that you're-"

"What Phoenix is trying to say," Abigail interrupted, shooting him a weird look, "is that you only do what we say if it immediately follows the phrase 'Simon says'. Easy enough?"

There was a collective affirmative and Abigail clapped her hand together, smiling. "Okay, everybody spread out, give yourself plenty of room and we'll get started."

Blaine started to move, but Dean grabbed his arm and shook his head minutely, gesturing with his head at the rest of the group. Only two or three people moved, including the unenthusiastic boy from before and Valerie.

"Ha! Gotcha!" Abigail said excitedly, pointing between them. "Out!" She jerked her thumb toward the sidelines.

He grumbled and walked away, and Valerie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she snarked and walked off, pulling out her phone as she went.

"Okay, simon says spread out and give yourself room," Phoenix said, grinning.

They did as told. Most people stretched their arms out to make sure they had enough room. When Blaine did, he felt Dean's fingers brush against his and glanced to the side to see the blonde smiling at him. He blushed slightly and turned back to face Abigail and Phoenix.

Things started out slow with easy commands, like run in place, do jumping jacks, touch your nose, and such. A few people got out and the Simon Collective graduated to slightly harder things that were more unexpected.

"Touch your toes!" Phoenix shouted, and two people moved. They were called out and sent to the sides.

"Now simon says…" Abigail paused, thinking, "hug your neighbor!"

Before Blaine could even react, he felt someone crash into his side and wrap their arms around his waist. When he looked over, he saw Dean's face, broken out in a wide grin. Blaine laughed along with him and slung his arms around his neck.

"Now simon says jump up and down with them!" Phoenix added.

Blaine and Dean shared a skeptical look, then shrugged in unison and began jumping up and down.

Eventually, they were commanded to pull apart and perform other tasks and, after about 10 minutes it whittled down to just three people-Dean, Blaine, and another girl.

"Simon says clap your hands seven times!"

"Simon says cross your eyes."

"Simon says whistle!"

"Stick your tongue out!"

All three of them clapped their hands, crossed their eyes and whistled, but only the girl stuck out her tongue. Abigail and Phoenix both pointed and yelled, "Ah!" at her.

She jumped up and down in frustration and there was a loud "awwww" from the crowd that was watching on the sidelines as she went over to join them.

"Okay, we're down to the wire, guys. Blaine, Dean, Simon says face each other," Phoenix said, gesturing them together.

They turned and stood, facing each other, about two feet apart. Blaine looked up at Dean's face and grinned in response to the wide smile that covered Dean's face. Then Dean winked at him and Blaine blushed. He almost didn't react to Phoenix's next command.

"Simon says high five." They did.

"Simon says do eight jumping jacks." They did.

"Get down on you knees." They didn't.

"Simon says… headbutt?" Reluctantly, they did, though not very hard.

Phoenix and Abigail shared a look. They seemed to be running out of ideas.

"Uhhh….." Abigail started.

"Simon says freestyle dance!" Phoenix shouted.

Blaine faltered and looked at him. "What?" he said, confused, as Dean broke into graceful dance with no hesitation.

The crowd around them cheered. "We have a winner!" Phoenix announced, and Blaine looked over at Dean, who stopped and was panting. The blonde grinned and Blaine couldn't help but to smile back.

"Let's give both of them a round of applause, guys. Awesome work, Curls and Stretch," Abigail said, gesturing to them as most of the other campers clapped for them.

Dean bowed playfully and then straightened up, putting his hands on his hips as he caught his breath. "And as a prize," Abigail said, reaching behind her and picking something up off the table, "you win this delicious snack cake to supplement the wonderful lunch that Brendon and the rest of the kitchen crew prepared for you." She held the packet of two zebra cakes out to Dean, grinning.

He laughed and took it from her. "Thanks, Abigail," he said.

"Okay, guys," Phoenix announced, "find your small group leaders and scurry away. My group, and Abby's group, stay here. We're gonna hook up with Brendon again for campfire songs for real this time." He paused to look at Blaine and Dean, who both hung their heads in shame.

Brian was nowhere to be seen, so Blaine could only assume that he was still being punished. He had sort of started it, after all.

They went together to the campfire that they had set up earlier, where Brendon was waiting for them, strumming absently at his guitar. Blaine hadn't really noticed before, but the one that he kept to himself was gorgeous. Everything was polished and it shined like it was brand new, strings clipped and tucked away neatly. The face was lime green and pristine, free of the usual wear and tear one saw on well-loved guitars.

The other that Blaine had been given earlier was leaning next to him against the log that he was sitting on. He looked up as the big group approached and smiled, waving to Blaine. He stood, stretching and popping his knuckles, before picking up the second guitar by the neck and presenting it to Blaine.

"Here ya go, mate," he said and handed it over.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked, carefully taking the instrument.

"Yeah…. why wouldn't I be?" Brendon asked quizzically.

Blaine shrugged. "I dunno… I thought that you might be mad about earlier."

Brendon scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, man. You put the guitar down first. It's not like you rolled around with it still strapped to your chest. And, I mean, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do… not that I'm condoning fighting, but, y'know," he said with a shrug.

Blaine smiled at him as he pulled the strap over his shoulder and played a few chords absently, just a routine check to make sure things were in proper working order.

It was a lot more fun than Blaine had expected, playing for the whole group. It wasn't like this was a real performance or anything, but he'd never played or sung in front of anyone but his stepmother before and it was exhilarating to be getting positive feedback. he could feel the adrenaline rushing as he and Brendon strummed and sang along with the rest of the groups. Abigail and Phoenix both jumped up and started dancing. Phoenix took Beth's hand and pulled her up to dance, too, then Abigail pushed Dean into the mix. Soon enough, everyone was dancing and singing and Blaine and Brendon were swaying along, as well.

It was the most fun Blaine had had in… years. He couldn't remember ever being so completely carefree and the smile never faded from his face. Then continued on until well after dinner time, which meant they missed the meal, but no one minded. Brendon snuck away and returned a few minutes later with sandwiches for everyone and they all sat around the fire, eating and chatting amiably.

It was interesting to see the dynamics when the two groups came together. Beth and Terra were across the fire from Blaine, chatting about something in excited voices. Drew was talking to some rocket-mouthed girl with a southern accent from Dean's group. Even Valerie, the girl who never seemed excited about anything and bordered on bitch most of the time, seemed to have found a companion in on of the boy's from Dean's group, who he was later inform was named Michael Jennings. Everyone else was in a little clump nearby, making small talk. Phoenix, Abigail, and Brendon were having a great time together, of course.

After a minute, Dean dropped on the log next to Blaine and leaned his elbows on his knees. "Hey," he greeted with a grin. Blaine smiled back at him, just a twitch at the corner of his lips. "Dude, Blaine, how long have you been playing guitar? You were really good."

Blaine shrugged humbly. "I've been playing for a few years. I bought a really cheap one with my allowance in, like 4th grade, I think. I just looked up tabs online and bought a few instructional DVDs and taught myself everything I know. I was absolute crap until last year, then I started getting pretty decent after that. My mom taught me to play violin when I was pretty young, so I guess I transferred pretty easily," he explained.

"You play violin, too? What else do you play?" Dean asked.

"Uhhh. Piano, too. Well, I guess. I don't get much practice on our real piano, but I have an old keyboard in my room that I play on, sometimes," Blaine said, shrugging.

"Geez, man. That's so cool! If you're as good at violin and piano as you are guitar, you're a real musician. We should jam sometime," Dean suggested excitedly.

Blaine smiled. "Yeah. What do you play?" he asked.

"I play cello and harmonica, mostly. I can strum a few chords on guitar and play Mary Had a Little Lamb on piano."

Blaine nodded approvingly, grinning widely. "Nice, nice. Mary Had a Little Lamb is better than nothin'," he said.

They chatted about different songs they played and what kind of music they liked for the rest of the night, until it was time head off to their cabins. They waved as they left the group and headed back, making small talk the whole time.

That night, Blaine went to sleep with a smile on his face.

~break~

The next day they woke up was the day of their punishment. After breakfast, they headed out to the little boathouse on the edge of the lake with cleaning supplies in tow. They had expected to be alone when they arrived and were surprised to find Brendon, humming softly to himself as he sanded down a small row boat.

"Oh, hey, guys," he said when they arrived.

"Hey, Brendon."

"Hi."

"Your punishment is to clean, right?" he asked from where he knelt on the floor. He scrubbed the sand paper over one spot on the wood once more before pulling it away and running his palm over the weathered wood.

"Yeah," Dean said, setting down one of the buckets of supplies.

"Just clean around me and I'll move in a while, okay?" he asked. They both nodded in response.

Cleaning the boathouse was a lot more fun than any punishment should have been, really. It sort of felt more like they were getting special bonding time with Brendon and each other, rather than being punished for fighting. They all sang and bopped around as they worked, Brendon encouraging them by singing catchy songs obnoxiously loud.

At around 10:30, Brendon excused himself to go help make lunch. They were left alone and cleaned while making small talk and singing. Conversation between them was coming easier with every day that they spent not pretending to hate each other. Blaine even felt comfortable around Dean. The only other person he could say that about, really, was his stepmother, Kate.

After a while, they were both on their hands and knees, scrubbing the floor spotless. After a minute of this, Dean sighed heavily and flopped over dramatically, singing loudly.

It's been a hard day's night

And I been workin' like a dog

It's been a hard day's night

I should be sleeping' like a log

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Oh, get up, you lazy bum. We're almost done," he said.

But when I get home to you

I find that the things that you do

will make me feeeeeeeel alriiiiiight

At that point, Dean was half screeching, making dramatic gestures as he sang. Blaine laughed when Dean flopped down on his back in front of him.

"Oh, come on!" he said and splashed him with some of the sudsy water.

Dean shot up immediately, yelping as his face was soaked. He gawked at Blaine for a moment. "Oh, you did _not_ just do that!" he said incredulously, much to Blaine's amusement.

"Oh, I totally did! What'cha gonna do about it?" he challenged.

Dean looked at him for a long moment, as if considering, then, without warning, jumped forward and tackled him to the ground. Blaine yipped in surprise. "This," he stated.

Blaine gaped up at him, then got a devious look of his own. He pulled hard to the side, until they rolled and he was on top. "Ha!" he yelled victoriously, but was quickly dethroned as they rolled again.

They landed in a tangle of limbs, both of them shaking with laughter. Dean was on top, laying flush against Blaine with his face buried in Blaine's chest to stifle his giggles. Blaine just tipped his head back and laughed openly. After a minute, they both got themselves under control and Dean lifted his head.

When their gazes met the shift in mood was immediate and palpable. Blaine was suddenly very aware of every inch that their bodies touched. He felt the blood rush to his face and flush it bright red. Dean just stared down at him, eyes shifting slightly, like he was trying to focus his attention on both eyes at the same time.

They both held their breath for a minute, then Dean leaned down, eyes closing on the descent, and pressed their lips together. It was soft and gentle, like a first kiss should be. Blaine's eyelids drooped slightly and he returned the kiss just as tenderly as Dean gave it. Then Dean pulled back, but Blaine didn't want it to end. He lifted his head up from the floor, jerking forward and bit down lightly on the blonde's lip. He followed Dean's retreating lips for a few inches before they parted and both of them tried to catch their breath.

Blaine kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, and when he opened them, Dean was grinning down at him. He blushed even more, if that was possible, and glanced to the side, laughing once and smiling shyly back at him. Dean hummed softly before lifting himself off of Blaine and kneeling again.

Blaine sat up as Dean reached behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck. He was even turning a little bit red, Blaine noticed. "So, uh, let's finish this up then go to lunch, yeah?" he said, picking up his sponge again.

Blaine bit his lip to try and hold in a smile and nodded his head. "Mmmhmm," he said and picked up his own sponge. Cleaning went much quicker after that, as things tended to do when you were floating on cloud nine.

A/N: Ahhhhhh! Guys! Fluff! I just squealed the whole time. it was sooo cute. omg. I'm so excited. I looove this leg of the story. Oh, and if you didn't notice, I've changed things so that Kurt is listed as a character now, since Klaine _is_ end game. Sorry to all those who clicked on this, thinking it was all Klaine fluff. But, I assume if you've gotten to the end of chapter 7, you don't mind being misled too much. lol. Love you all!


	8. Action

A/N: Sooo, guys. I've been watching the Glee Project lately and I've gotta say, Shandsey are precogs. Samuel is basically _exactly_ how Phoenix is supposed to look. I was like whoa. Also, dearest reviewers, I have so very few of you. I send lots of love to all of you. You're all TOTALLY AWESOME. Also, go check out Snakequeen-in-Norway's stuff. She's an avid reviewer of mine and, as I recently discovered, a _boss_ author!

Things started to go well for the two of them, after that day. There was very little awkwardness between them, but it was almost like _good_ awkwardness. The kind that new couples had, still in first stages of their relationship when they were beginning to experiment and explore boundaries with one another.

During the day, they were friendly, but not overly affectionate. They didn't hang on each other like Blaine had noticed some of the couples that had started to develop doing. Jenny, for example, was all over Drew 24/7. It was almost sickening. They ate majority of their meals together, and spent a lot of their free time at the lake or in their cabin together. It also helped that Phoenix and Abigail were attached at the hip.

When they were alone, they were more affectionate. Dean wasn't why about making casual contact with Blaine, and Blaine wasn't scared to touch him anymore. They shared maybe a dozen kisses, but never anything intense. The were, for the most part, chaste pecks, a quick smack on the lips when one of them wasn't expecting it, all interspersed between thinly veiled flirting. Blaine even leaned in and gave Dean a soft kiss on the fourth day after the boathouse, which sparked more of a conversation than either of them had bargained for.

The first time Blaine made the conscious decision to kiss Dean happened right after a large, camp-wide soccer tournament. Their team had come in third place and they were both hot and sweaty and exhausted when they returned to their cabin.

"Ugh," Dean said as he entered their cabin, probing gingerly at his mouth, "He got me good. My lip is definitely gonna be swollen tomorrow.." Dean was the goalie for their team and had done a great job, keeping out almost every ball that came his way. Then, one well place kick by Michael caught him off guard and the ball smacked him right in the face.

Blaine frowned. "I'm sorry. That sucks. How bad does it hurt?" he asked, stepping closer to him, brow creasing with concern.

Dean shrugged. "Oh, not _that_ bad, but it stings," he said.

Blaine bit his lip for a moment, then made the decision. He lifted up onto his toes, placing his hands gently on Dean's arms to steady himself, and pressed his lips to the other boy's as softly as he could. He held the contact for a few seconds before pulling back.

"Better?" he asked softly, their faces still close.

Dean's eyes were still closed. "Uh huh," he breathed, nodding slowly.

"Are you _sure_?" Blaine teased.

Dean's eyes opened a millimeter. "Well, it still hurts a little bit," he responded cheekily, lips ghosting at a smile.

Blaine grinned widely. "Well, that won't do. I'll just have to kiss it better," he said and leaned in for another kiss. This time he slotted his mouth lightly against Dean's and they stayed together for almost a minute. One of Dean's hands went to Blaine's hip and Blaine's hand came up to rest on the side of Dean's neck, thumb gently smoothing over his jawline. When Blaine rolled back on his heels again, he took his hand from Dean's face to wipe the corner of his mouth.

"Much better," Dean said softly, then grinned widely.

Blaine smiled back at Dean and stretched nonchalantly. "You're really good, you know. You should try out for JV next year. You'd have a good shot at making first string," he said.

Dean's face shifted immediately from hazy happiness to a withering glare and Blain recoiled slightly. He paled, remembering what things were like for Dean at school-what _he_ made things like for Dean at school. "Oh," he murmured, looking down in shame, "Right…. nevermind."

Immediately, Dean's eyes softened and he sighed slightly. He took half a step forward to bring them close again and tipped Blaine's chin up to look at him. Blaine lifted his head without resistance and looked up into Dean's eyes. He looked so sad. Blaine leaned forward again and kissed Dean's lips gently.

"I… I'm _so_ sorry, Dean," he said, voice breaking and chin quivering.

"Me too. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty. That wasn't what this was supposed to be about," he said.

"No," Blaine said sternly. "I'm really, really sorry. I've done nothing but torture you since even before you came out. We were friends when we were kids, man. Brandon was your friend, too. I remember, 'cause you were at his birthday party when he turned, like, ten. It's just… even remember when things started to change, and when they started treating you badly.

"I don't remember deciding that they were right, and you were some freak. It was just, like, one day we were all playing four square together, then I was high fiving Jeremy after he slammed you into a locker. It… it all got out of control so fast. Then I couldn't do anything about it, because I'm weak and I was scared and confused and I'm so far in the closet that it hurts." Blaine's voice cracked and he choked back a sob. He hadn't realized that tears had sprung to his eyes until it was too late to stop them. He looked down, trembling and swiping at his eyes.

"I'm just… I'm so freaking sorry, Dean," He stuttered out.

"Shhhh," Dean crooned softly, wiping his tears away softly. "It's okay," he whispered, "I can forgive you." Then he kissed Blaine again and everything was okay.

After that, they were both physically and emotionally drained. It had become an unspoken rule that they didn't take showers at the same time anymore. It was hard enough to keep your cool surrounded by naked, straight guys that you had no personal ties to. But someone you were kissing, completely naked, standing 5 feet away? That was a hard situation to deal with.

So, Blaine took his shower first and plopped down on his bed to mess with the Rubik's cube again while Dean took his. When Dean came back, Blaine still only had the yellow face solved, but the edges were still mismatched.

Blaine was laying on his back and resting his arms on his chest as he slowly turned the pieces in a futile attempt to try and get all the colours uniform. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed beside him and paused, gauging the other's reaction. When he didn't get a negative one, he leaned back and laid beside Blaine, looking up at it.

"If you don't line up the edges," Dean explained, dragging his fingers across the assortment of other colours just around the corner from the solid yellow side, "it's like not solving it at all."

Blaine frowned. "I seriously don't understand this thing. It's like… impossible. I don't know how you do it," he said, handing it over. In less than a minute, it was solved.

"It seems impossible when you just look at it, but there's a system. If you learn the algorithms, it'll be simple," he said, laying the puzzle back on Blaine's chest.

"Hmmm," Blaine said with a yawn and gave a half shrug, "Maybe another day."

Yawns were infectious and it caught on quickly. From beside him, Blaine heard Dean yawn, too. His eyes slid closed.

"M'tired," he murmured. Dean hummed in response. Blaine could feel Dean relaxing beside him, too. Eventually, they both slipped into a light doze and the Rubik's cube slid, forgotten, onto the bed beside them as Blaine shifted to rest his head on Dean's shoulder.

They woke up in that position about an hour later. Blaine groaned when he opened his eyes, waking Dean in the process. They looked at each other blearily for a moment before eventually getting up and both stretching to try and dispel the sleepiness.

"I can't believe we fell asleep like that," Blaine said, more to himself than to Dean.

"Well," Dean supplied, "Today _was_ particularly draining." Blaine nodded in response.

Dean stifled another yawn and cracked his neck once. He glanced at the clock sitting on the night stand. "Almost dinner time. Wanna head up to the main hall?" he asked. Blaine nodded in response and they headed out together.

They found Beth at a table and joined her. Shortly after, Abigail and Phoenix put their trays down in unison and joined them. The five of them shared a pleasant meal, then split up, Abigail and Blaine heading in the opposite direction as Dean, Phoenix, and Beth.

Dean's group played a few silly games that evening, ending up just talking amongst themselves at the end of their time. It was already dark when the all split up and headed back to their respective cabins. When Dean got there, he found that Blaine was still out. He stretched as he entered, taking in the cabin. His side was a little messy, whereas Blaine's was pristine. In fact, it was so neat that it looked almost military. Who the hell made their bed at summer camp? Apparently, Blaine.

He straightened things up, which mostly consisted of tossing his dirty clothes in a pile in the corner for laundry day and shoving his suitcases back under his bed. After that was done, he kicked off his shoes by the door, scooped up the book from his bedside table and plopped down on his bed. He flipped to the page he had marked and started reading.

Not 5 minutes later, he heard the door open and breathed in the unmistakable scent of summer night mixed with Blaine as the other boy entered. He smiled slightly, but didn't look away from his book.

"Hi," Blaine greeted. Dean just hummed softly in response, engrossed in the story.

He heard his cabinmate moving around for a minute, but didn't notice the lack of background noise until the bed dipped beside him. His lips twitched slightly as Blaine leaned closer, obviously reading the words on the page, and he felt his body radiating a soft warmth.

"What'cha doin'?" he asked.

"Readin'," Dean sing-songed back.

"What'cha readin'?"

Dean grinned. "Grimm's Fairy Tales."

"Hmmm," Blaine hummed thoughtfully, "that sounds like something you'd like."

"What?" Dean asked, feigning defensiveness as he dropped the book onto his chest and looked up at the other boy, "you don't like fairy tales?"

Blaine smiled back. "Kindda girlie, don't ya think?" he teased.

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What_ever_."

They smiled at each other for a few seconds, then Blaine's grin faded a little. He looked indecisive for a half-second, like he almost always did before he did anything, then leaned down and pressed a their lips together softly. Dean was a little bit surprised, but after the day they'd had, it wasn't too big of a shock.

Earlier had been the first time, since the very first time when Blaine had just grabbed him out of nowhere and kissed him, that the other had initiated a kiss. Before it has been all Dean starting and Blaine reacting. Dean had been starting to feel like maybe he should stop initiating things. But, now he was more assured and could just enjoy the kiss.

He thought back to earlier, and to their first kiss during the thunderstorm, and felt a bolt of heat in his belly. The memories, coupled with the sensation of Blaine's lips against his own, hovering comfortably above him, were enough to make him want more. He pushed himself up off the pillow when Blaine finally pulled away, chasing the kiss.

They parted and Dean sat up. He liked it when Blaine took control like that. But, maybe it was his turn to take control again, a little bit. Dean's lips twitched upwards for half a second, then he leaned forward, neatly depositing his book on the night stand and he shifted to his knees and gently brought his hands up.

He carefully skimmed his fingers over Blaine's hip, feeling the other boy stiffen, then melt beneath his touch. He slid his hands up until they were flat against Blaine's chest and their faces were a millimeter apart. He kissed Blaine's lips once, twice, then nipped at his bottom lip. He felt the brunette shiver and go with the motion.

When a hand came up to his hip and squeezed lightly it was Dean's turn to shiver. He let our a breath sigh and guided Blaine down gently, ready to stop at any sign of unease or resistance. When he felt none, he shifted and pushed until they were both fully on the bed, feet up by where his pillows rested. He held himself up awkwardly, half above Blaine, half beside him, then lowered down. Their chests pressed together and their legs twined and it felt wonderful.

Blaine was looking up at him with half hooded eyes that sent a chill down his spine. Just when he thought the curly haired teen couldn't get anymore beautiful, he did something positively irresistible that threw Dean for a loop.

When Blaine's eyes closed all the way and he breathed out softly, Dean leaned in again for another kiss. Their mouths fit together so well that Dean couldn't imagine ever kissing anyone else. Lips moved together for quite sometime before Dean worked up the courage to poke his tongue forward, sweeping across Blaine's lips as if to ask for permission.

With little hesitation, Blaine opened his mouth and Dean immediately dove in. The curly haired boy below him made a soft sound in the back of his throat and moved one hand up, His fingers caught the bottom hem of Dean's shirt, lifting it a few inches so his fingers could splay on bare skiing. Dean shivered and groaned softly. He dropped to his elbows and twined his fingers in Blaine's soft curls.

They kissed for a long time, bumping teeth jarringly more than once, but eventually found the right pattern to move their lips to. When they finally pulled apart for good, they were both breathing heavily. They laid for sometime, just being close and enjoying each other's presence.

Eventually, Blaine sat up. Dean looked up at him, smiling slightly, and Blaine returned the gesture. He leaned down and planted one more soft, open-mouthed kiss on Dean's lips before sliding off the edge of the bed and softly padding to his own side of the room. He quickly changed into pajamas and then climbed in bed.

Dean stood and changed as well, then went to turn off the lights and returned to his own bed. He smiled to himself as he pulled the covers up.

"Goodnight," he heard from across the room.

His smile broadened. "Sleep tight," he responded, then closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him.


	9. Acceptance, Aliens

A/N: Aledda, this is for you. I'm fulfilling a request you've been begging for the past few chapters. =] Enjoy, everybody! Also, I've been trying to shamelessly plug this universe at every chance I get. So, if you guys are in any Klaine/Blaine/Kurt/Glee fanclubs or anything and feel like giving us some free advertising, or even just want to recommend friends, it'd be much appreciated and you might be rewarded with some mini-spoilers. ;D

The next few days pass by quickly, as time tends to do when you're happy and having fun. Blaine was completely content with the way things were going. Once, he stopped and thought about things back home, but he worked himself up so much that he had to excuse himself from dinner to calm down. So he stopped thinning about home and his dad and the Rules. He just thought about Dean and camp and how great things were.

At breakfast one morning, Brendon surprised Blaine by dropping into the seat next to him as soon as he was done serving everyone and Blaine was finishing.

"So, I'm going to steal you," he said with no other introduction.

Blaine just raised his eyebrows and looked at Abigail, who was grinning deviously, questioningly. "I already approved of this, Curls," she said.

"Uh…. okay. What for, may I ask?" Blaine said slowly, looking between the two.

"We're going to jam," he stated, smiling. Blaine just kept his eyebrows raised, waiting for Brendon to explain further, which he did. "You were awesome the other night and you've gotta keep practicing if you wanna keep that skill level up, or improve at all. Plus, I think it'd be fun. There are too few people who I can play with around here. Abigail hardly ever gives in and there are only so many times i can stand Phoenix."

"Hey!" the long-haired counselor protested from across the table, tossing a french fry at him. "You _love_ playing with me. You love me." He pouted and Abigail snickered.

Brendon grinned. "I know man, I know. But I think I need some space. I'm movin' on to bigger and better things," he teased, gesturing to Blaine.

Blaine looked over at Phoenix. "I don't think I'm better than you, Phoenix," he said, then paused, "and I think we can all plainly see that I'm not bigger. You're, like, a foot taller than me. At least." Dean snorted from Phoenix's other side and Blaine shot him a menacing glare. The blonde just grinned back at him.

Beth elbows him in the side and gave him a scolding look. "Be nice, Stretch," Phoenix said to Dean, who pretended to pout and threw his arms up in defeat as he was double teamed from both sides. Blaine gloated silently and laughed at them.

"So, are you down?" Brendon asked once they'd all settled down.

Blaine thought it over for a minute, then shrugged. "Yeah, totally. You're really good. Maybe I can learn from you. I've never really gotten to play with anybody before, so it's cool to have something to go off of," he said with a decisive nod.

"Cool," Brendon said and stood. He dropped a hand on Blaine's shoulder, clapping it firmly. "You know where my room is. Come over after you're done eating."

"Remember, Puppy," Abigail called to Brendon's retreating back and he glanced over his shoulder at her, "have some fun, too, before you return him! Not strictly business," Brendon smiled at her and nodded, waving absently back at the group.

"Puppy?" Dean asked, brow creasing.

"Yeah, Puppy? And what did you mean 'have fun' and 'business'?" Blaine added.

Abigail and Phoenix just exchanged not so subtle looks and continued eating. Blaine cast a questioning look at Dean, who just shrugged, equally confused.

"Have fun, I guess," Dean said, waving as Blaine picked up his tray and went to put it up.

A minute later, Blaine knocked on Brendon's door, and it swung open almost immediately to reveal Brendon's smiling face. "Hey, man," he said and ushered the younger boy inside.

Blaine smiled and came in, walking over to the guitar that he'd used last time, glancing at Brendon for permission. He nodded and gestured to the guitar freely. Brendon sat on the edge of his bed, pushing his dreads back over his shoulders. He grabbed two that grew from the base of his skull and wrapped them around the rest to tie them back, knotting his hair back neatly. Except for one single dreadlocks, of course, which managed to find its way free and hang by the side of his face.

He picked up his green guitar and strummed absently for a moment. "I'm gonna sing a song for you, kay? It's one of my all time favourites," he said, then cleared his throat when Blaine nodded, plopping down in a disc chair in the corner and settling in to listen.

_I can't help my feelings;_

_I'll go out of my mind._

_These players come to get me_

'_Cause they'd like my behind._

_I can't love my business,_

_If I can't get a trick._

_Down on Santa Monica,_

_Where tricks are for kids._

_Oh, come on and kick me._

_Oh, come on and kick me._

_Whoa, oh, oh, Come on and kick me._

_Whoa, oh, oh, You've got your problems_

_Whoa, oh, oh I've got my ass wide_

_I can't help my boogies;_

_They get out of control._

_I know that you don't care_

_But I want you to know._

_The knee-stocking flavor_

_Is a favorite treat_

_Of men that don't bother_

_With the taste of a teat._

_Oh, come on and kick me._

_Oh, come on and kick me._

_Whoa, oh, oh, Come on and kick me._

_Whoa, oh, oh, You've got your problems_

_Whoa, oh, oh, I've got my ass wide_

_Whoa, oh, oh, You've got your big G's_

_I've got my hash pipe._

_i've got my hash pipe_

_Oh, come on and kick me._

_Oh, come on and kick me._

_Whoa, oh, oh, Come on and kick me._

_Whoa, oh, oh, You've got your problems_

_Whoa, oh, oh, I've got my ass wide._

_Whoa, oh, oh, You've got your big G's_

_I've got my hash pipe._

_I've got my hash pipe._

_I've got my hash pipe._

_I've got my hash pipe._

Blaine clapped at the end. "Very good. Who was that?" he asked.

"Weezer."

He nodded, then paused, thinking. Brendon waited patiently to see what he was going to say. "Why is that your favourite song?" he finally asked.

"Because it's important to me. It sort of applies to my past."

Blaine paled slightly. "What… how so?" he asked slowly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Brendon settled into his seat, looking like he was gearing up for a long story. "When I was fourteen, my parents threw me out."

Blaine's brow furrowed. Why was Brendon telling him this?

"There was no real reason, I didn't do anything. They just got tired of looking at my face, I guess. I was on the streets for about three years. It was…" he paused, considering, then continued, "a tough time. I was young, younger than you are now, and scared. I had 10 bucks in my pocket and no one to care about me. I…" he stopped again, uncomfortably, and folded his arms across his chest, "did what I had to to survive," he said, grimacing slightly.

Blaine bit his lip and took in a deep breath to steady himself. He didn't want to hear this. Not about Brendon. He was quiet, sure, but always seem so upbeat. Blaine had experienced some terrible things at the hands of his father, but at least he still put a roof over his head . Why did bad things happen to good people? Did everyone have to suffer?

"If you haven't noticed, I've got a pretty unique face. I was a light skinned black kid with blue eyes in a hard city… sometimes things were tough for me. I was a lot shorter and scrawnier back then, too. There are a lot of people out there who would pay big bucks to have 20 minutes alone with a desperate kid. If I was lucky I could get an hour out of them, and that would get me a room for the night or a few hot meals. I couldn't get a legit job, of course. Who would hire a dirty, homeless, potentially dangerous kid off the street? I don't blame them, really.

"Anyway, I spent over three years on the street. When I wasn't with the Johns, I was trolling the business district, looking for someone to drop a dollar in my cup while I sang," he looked away, then, seeming to get lost in the memory, "Back when I was little and my parents still cared, my mom would tell me I had a great voice and a real ear for music. I could hear a tune once, and it was with me for life."

He pulled himself out of his reverie and continued with his story, shaking his head to dispel the memories. "Every now and then, I got someone who would put me up for a particularly cold night in the winter, but for the most part I was just another invisible homeless kid. That is, until I met Abigail.

"She was like an angel. I was bundled up on the streets in New York City, shaking through the crappy coat I had, and trying to pick out a tune with frozen fingers. Then, out of nowhere, she was sitting beside me and holding out a hot cup of coffee. She sat with me for hours, talking about music and where I came from and where she came from.

"She invited me back to her apartment to ride out the cold snap. I was skeptical at first. Who was this chick? I'd met a lot of people who seemed harmless enough, but turned out to be more dangerous than half of the hardened criminals I came in contact with.

"But then, I spent a few tense hours with her and nothing bad happened, then I met Phoenix, who was her roommate. They were both freshmen in college and didn't mind me crashing on the couch. They just sort of took me in. That's why she calls me Puppy. She said I was like a lost puppy and she couldn't bear to leave me out on the streets. Then I just sort of… never left," he paused and shrugged, "That was three years ago and I've been with them ever since. Life's finally good," he said, wrapping up the story with a fond smile.

Blaine was silent for a long moment. His mind was hadn't thought Abigail and Phoenix were bad people before or anything, but something of that magnitude-taking in a total stranger off the streets-was surprising. The fondness he'd already felt for the two counselors was amplified tenfold after that.

"Why did you tell me that?" he asked finally.

Brendon smiled, but Blaine could sense a little sadness behind the expression. He shrugged. "We've all got our sad stories. You're young enough that you might not have yours yet, but, if you don't, you will. Abigail has been worried about you. She likes you a lot, you know, even though she'd never admit it in front of the other kids. She's pretty astute, I think, and if she says that hearing my story might help you deal with whatever you're going through, then that's more than enough incentive for me to spill my guts," he said.

Blaine was silent again for a few long minutes, just thinking. What did Abigail know about him? He'd been so careful with what he said. There was no way she knew about…. his home life, was there? No, he decided, it had to be something else. He hadn't exactly been the most outgoing when he'd first arrived, he knew. That had seemed like ages ago, even though it hadn't even been a whole month since he'd arrived.

Sure, he hadn't actually _said_ anything to her. But, as he knew, only half of what was said was spoken. He recalled nearly jumping out of his skin one time when Abigail slapped him on the arm. That had probably been a bit hint that he wasn't a normal kid. But, dammit! He was conditioned. He couldn't help it! His life sucked. He _knew_ it was wrong, but he knew there was no way for him to get out of it, either.

_But what if there is?_ A little voice in the back of his head was urging him to speak up, _What if you told Brendon everything, right now?_ Without actually realizing he was doing it, Blaine shook his head.

No, he couldn't tell.

He wasn't going to get a guardian angel to come to his house and pull him out of the situation like Brendon had with Abigail. And he couldn't leave Kate-he wasn't brave enough. So, he just had to adapt.

And, most importantly, he had to keep it a secret.

But, obviously, Brendon knew that _something_ was wrong. The fact that he felt tears springing to his eyes didn't help with the "I'm totally okay" image he was trying to convey, either. Blaine looked down, sniffling slightly.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You don't even have to tell me what it is. But just know that I'm here-so are Abigail and Phoenix-if you ever want to talk. About anything, to any degree. Alright?" Brendon said gently. Blaine nodded silently, still fighting the tears.

Blaine heard rustling material as Brendon slid off the bed and walked towards him. "Did this help you at all?" he asked, crouching down beside Blaine, but careful not to touch him. He nodded again. It really had helped, even if it was upsetting at the same time.

It showed him that it was possible to be happy after bad things happened to you. He'd had a feeling over the past few days that everything good that had suddenly appeared in his life-his friendships with Abigail, Phoenix, Beth and Brendon, and whatever was happening between him and Dean-was all just a dream, a lie he had made up in his head and things couldn't possibly be this good. That wasn't how it worked in his life.

But maybe, just maybe, if Brendon could make it out of that situation and be happy, Blaine could be happy one day, too. Maybe he could be happy with Dean.

"Can I hug you, man? 'Cause I really want to," Brendon asked anxiously from his side. Blaine let out a watery laugh and nodded. He felt the older boy's arms encircle him immediately and he as pulled against his broad chest securely. They stayed like that for a minute before Blaine calmed down enough to wipe his eyes and pull away.

"Thanks, Brendon. That… helped me a lot, I think," he said.

Brendon smiled and nodded. "You're welcome," he said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it.

Which was for the best, anyway-Blaine wouldn't offer up any information about his situation and didn't want to be asked about it.

Brendon sighed heavily, blowing a raspberry as he swept a hand back through his dreads, which had come loose at some point during their conversation. He scratched his head absently. "Dude, this mood needs to be lightened hardcore. Let's play something."

Blaine laughed and agreed, picking up the guitar and pulled the strap over his shoulder. They jammed for about three hours and successfully lifted Blaine's spirits again. He even learned a new trick that he'd never known before, and could now pick his way through three more songs than he'd been able to before coming that day.

Shortly before lunch they decided to call it a day. Brendon set down his guitar and smiled at it, gently saying, "There ya go, Legolas."

Blaine snorted. "You named your guitar Legolas?"

Brendon looked offended. "Yeah. What, don't tell me you didn't name your guitar at home?"

"I did. Sami. But _Legolas_? Seriously?" Blaine loved Sami, and the name Sami. Secretly, it was short for Samuel, but if anyone ever asked, he'd say Samantha. That was the beauty of unisex nicknames.

"Hey, I love Lord of the Rings," Brendon defended, "Plus, do you know what Legolas actually _means_?" Blaine shook his head. "Green leaves. I have a green guitar, so I picked a name that meant green. So there." Brendon stuck his tongue out at the younger boy, who just laughed and held his hands up in defeat.

"Okay, okay. You win. Legolas is an awesome name for your guitar," he admitted as he reached up to remove the guitar that was still currently strapped to his chest.

Brendon put up a hand to stop him. "No, Blaine. Keep it. For the summer, anyway. You've gotta keep practicing, plus that one never gets any love, anyway. I play Legolas and I let everyone else borrow the other one. You should play it," he said. Blaine smiled and nodded enthusiastically, sliding the instrument around his body so it hung from his back instead.

Brendon held out a hand to Blaine, which he took eagerly. They clapped their palms, then pulled their chests together and patted each other lightly on the back before pulling apart and going to the door, parting ways as Brendon headed to the kitchens and Blaine went back to his cabin.

Once there, he laid down on his bed, inspecting the guitar a little more closely. It was in decent condition, but looked well loved. There were tiny scratches all across the body that looked like they'd been polished over, but not completely erased. One of the tuning pegs had a little chip out of it. But, over all, it was a nice guitar.

After a minute, he started to pick out a melody he was familiar with. He easily played a few bars of the introduction before closing his eyes as he picked at the strings, dipping his head to the beat and letting the music take over.

_Scar tissue that I wish you saw _

_Sarcastic mister know it all _

_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause _

_With the birds I'll share _

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view _

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view _

_Push me up against the wall _

_Young Kentucky girl in a push-up bra _

_Fallin' all over myself _

_To lick your heart and taste your health 'cause _

Blaine's eyes shot wide open when he heard a voice join his own. He stopped singing, but continued playing.

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view_

Dean smiled and gave him a questioning look and continued singing. Blaine smiled at him, then started singing again, this time with more enthusiasm.

_Blood loss in a bathroom stall _

_Southern girl with a scarlet drawl _

_Wave goodbye to ma and pa 'cause _

_With the birds I'll share _

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view _

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view _

_Soft spoken with a broken jaw _

_Step outside but not to brawl _

_Autumn's sweet we call it fall _

_I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl and _

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view_

_Scar tissue that I wish you saw _

_Sarcastic mister know it all _

_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you 'cause _

Dean had made his way over to Blaine's bedside quickly and stood there. They both knew what lines were coming up. Blaine smiled slightly about two lines ahead of time, then let his eyes slip closed and, as he sang "Close your eyes and I'll kiss you," Dean leaned down and kissed the corner of his lips.

_With the birds I'll share _

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view _

_With the birds I'll share _

_This lonely view_

They finished the song together and Blaine played the tail end on guitar until it faded into silence. He smiled and opened his eyes to look up at the blonde standing above him.

"Hi," he said, setting the instrument down on the bed beside him.

"Hey," Dean said, placing a hand lightly on Blaine's neck, sweeping his thumb over the line of his jaw lightly. Blaine covered the hand with his own without really thinking about it.

Now that he wasn't fighting it anymore, things just came so naturally between them. There was never any discomfort or awkwardness, as long as they stayed away from the subject of home.

Dean smiled at him and leaned down again, planting a kiss on his lips. Blaine returned the kiss softly.

"You know," Dean said in a slow drawl, "you really do have a fabulous voice. You should join the glee club next year. I'm going to."

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, maybe," he said dismissively and stood, stretching. "Are you hungry? A little birdie told me we were having lasagna before he went off to cook it," he asked, effectively changing the subject.

Dean nodded. "Uh huh. That's actually why I came back here. I thought you might be here, since you weren't with your group, and i wanted to see if you'd like to go eat together."

Blaine smiled. "Of course," he said, and gestured for Dean to lead the way, then paused for a moment. "We don't have group meetings until after dinner, right?" he asked as he walked towards his nightstand. Dean nodded. "I think I'll go down to that nice field by the lake-you know the one I'm talking about?-and read for a while after lunch. Wanna join me?" he explained as he pulled out a book that was marked about a third of the way in from his drawer.

"Good idea," Dean said, snatching up his book of fairy tales before heading out the door. They ate ate their lasagna fairly quickly and headed off to the lakeside. As they approached the field, a few familiar voices drifted towards them.

"No way, man! You're a non-believer!" came Phoenix's outraged voice.

"Yes, Phoenix." The second person was Brendon.

They glanced at each other warily and paused, unsure if they should round the last corner so they could be seen. They were both thinking the same thing-if there were people having a debate about religion, they didn't want to get involved. It could potentially be a sensitive subject for them.

But then Dean seemed shrug it off and started walking again. Blaine followed unsurely.

"Oh my god, guys. Chill out. Look!" she said and pointed to Blaine and Dean, who were approaching the trio then, "here comes Curls and Stretch. They'll settle this. Do you guys believe?" she asked.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "In what?" he asked.

"Mother fuckin' aliens, dude!" Phoenix practically yelled. Abigail shot him a look and slapped his thigh. He gave them an apologetic look. "Pardon my French."

Blaine's brow creased in confusion. "Aliens….?" he repeated slowly. Beside him, Dean burst out in a deep belly laugh.

"We totally thought you were talking about something else," Dean said, still laughing.

Phoenix looked confused. "Huh? What else would we be talking about?"

"Religion," Blaine supplied.

Phoenix scoffed and waved a hand dismissively and he allowed himself to fall backwards from his sitting position, landing half in Brendon's lap. Brendon smiled down at him and absently began to finger comb through his hair. Phoenix closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively.

"You two make me sick," Abigail said and rolled her eyes.

"Don't hate just because you're jealous," Phoenix said cheekily, which earned him a face full of grass from Abigail, who merely stuck out here tongue by way of response.

Dean and Blaine joined their group, sitting down in the soft grass. Blaine cracked open his novel and sort of tuned things out again for a few minutes.

"You know, you never answered my question. Do you guys believe in aliens?" Phoenix asked, "Because Brendon doesn't." He then gave the other man another incredulous look. "I can't believe I've lived with you for, like, 3 years and never knew this." He looked very put out and almost offended. Brendon just rolled his eyes at him.

"I dunno," Blaine said after a moment with a shrug, "I mean, I guess there _could_ be aliens." He looked at Dean questioningly.

"There might be, there might not be, but I think it's pretty arrogant for man to just assume that we were the only planet who hit the metaphorical jackpot and developed intelligent life out there. Also, we're pretty darn young in the big scheme of things. I think it's very possible that there are races that are a billion times older than humans," Dean explained.

Phoenix nodded enthusiastically and held his hands out towards Dean the best he could from his position across Brendon's lap. "See! Dude, that's what I've been trying to tell you!" he explained excitedly to Brendon, who merely shook his head skeptically.

"I dunno, man."

"Oh, come on! There's soooo much stuff you can't explain with anything other than aliens!"

"Like what, crop circles?"

"No, no. That stuff's pure BS. Teenagers do it on dares. No, legit old stuff. Like, like," he struggled for a moment to find something, "like Stone Henge! Or, like, the pyramids. Easter Island! Or all the references to crazy alien shit in the Bible!"

"Aliens in the Bible?" Brendon asked, confused.

"Yeah! The Nephilim!" Phoenix said excitedly.

"Wait, you mean the half angel, half human super breed?"

"Yeah! There's a pretty legit theory that the supposed "Watcher" angels that came down from Heaven, or whatever, were actually aliens that came down to breed with humans. Genesis talks about the Watchers teaching humans all about metalworking, sorcery, astrology, astronomy, and meteorology. What kind of angels teach that shit to humans? But then God, or _aliens_, decided that humans weren't ready for that kind of info and created the great flood to wipe out all knowledge that had been passed on."

"Like Star Trek?" Dean piped up. All attention turned to him.

"What?" asked Phoenix.

"Like the Prime Directive, you know?" he looked around, waiting for someone to nod, "No? No one….? Anyway, it's the most important rule in the Federation. It states that they're not to interfere with the natural development of any race of sentient beings that have not yet developed warp technology."

"Yeah!" Phoenix said, "Basically like that. The so-called angels came down against the mothership's instruction and interfered with the mankind's natural development. So they killed everyone except Noah off. Which would totally explain why he could hear the voice of "God" and manage to build an ark that fast. Not to mention the fact that he managed to coax two of every animal onto his boat and keep them from killing each other. He was half alien!"

Blaine snickered to himself and shook his head, tuning them out again as Brendon came back with another skeptical reply.

"Dude," he heard Phoenix say, attention was grabbed again by the counselor's sudden movement as he sat up, "you should totally twist my hair."

Brendon raised his eyebrows skeptically. "You want me to dread your precious, beautiful hair?" he asked, flicking the long curls teasingly.

Phoenix nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, totally. Why not? We could be twins."

Brendon laughed. "Yeah, alright, c'mere," he gestured for Phoenix to turn so he was sitting in front of him. He pulled an elastic band from his wrist and put up all but the bottom layer of Phoenix's hair in a loose, messy bun. He sectioned off what looked like a one inch square and began the process, twisting the hair and rolling it between his palm.

"And, like, put some feathers in it or something," Phoenix said.

"Where the hell am I supposed to get feathers?" Brendon asked, giving the back of Phoenix's head a funny look.

He just shrugged. "I dunno. From a bird. I feel like feathers would be appropriate, what with my name."

"Phoenix _is_ a bird," Blaine said, as if he'd just realized.

"Phoenix Hawkins," Dean added with a grin.

"Phoenix Canary Hawkins," Abigail finished for them. They both stared at her for a second, then Blaine gave Phoenix a questioning look.

He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "My parents like birds," he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. A second later, the most obscene noise came out of his mouth, something halfway between a moan and a sigh. "Oh my _god_, Brendon. This is like Heaven. Why have I never made you dread my hair before?"

Brendon just smirked as he started on the next section.

"Well… now I want someone to French brain my hair," Abigail said, pursing her lips and surveying the boys around her. "Curls!" she called out excitedly, startling him, "come French braid my hair."

Blaine furrowed his brow at her. "Abigail," he said placatingly, "I'm an only child. I have no sisters. I don't know how to French braid. I don't even know how to normal braid, actually."

She looked horrified at him. "How can you not know this!" she wailed hopelessly. Dean laughed from beside Blaine.

"No worries, Abigail. I'll do it for you," he said and set down his book, marking his place in the middle of _Snow-White and Rose-Red_. He scooted over until he was behind her and started combing the few tangles out of her hair with his fingers. "Your hair is so soft," he commented, "A lot of redheads have really wiry hair, but yours is nice."

She smiled. "Just lucky, I guess," she said and tipped her head back to give him a little better reach.

Blaine sat and watched the two pairs for a few minutes. His eyes followed Dean's hands as they worked through Abigail's hair and he felt jealousy stirring in his gut, making his spine tingle. That should be his hair that Dean was manipulating with such care, and that should be him humming in appreciation. He narrowed his eyes slightly, then caught himself and shook his head, realizing how ridiculous he was being.

_Where the hell did that come from? _he thought to himself before reluctantly returning to his reading.

A/N: Sooooo, yeah. Good? I certainly hope so. =] How do you guys feel about Brendon's background? Is it as hear trenching to read as it was to write? D= And more songs! This is a _Glee_ fanfiction, after all.


	10. Alakazam!

A/N: After a late night quesadilla and a bowl of pasta salad to sustain me through an extra mealtime, I believe I'm about to post two chapters on consecutive days. Does this make me a boss? I think so. xD

July snuck up on Blaine like a predator stalking it's prey. He hadn't even realized it had been more than three weeks, and suddenly it was July first. And July first just happened to be his laundry day.

He pulled his things from the dryer and stuffed them all into his laundry bag, but paused when he noticed a rust colored shirt that wasn't his. He held it in his hands for a moment, running his thumb across the printed letters.

"Fletcher. Amaze Dance Crew," he read aloud and smiled fondly. He knew that Dean danced some, but he'd had no idea he was involved with a group of any sort. He tried to picture Dean dancing. He wondered what sort of dance he did. Probably a lot of different types, but he was sure the other boy had a favourite genre. All artists did. He'd ask, sometime. Maybe he could convince Dean to dance for him.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts with a shake of his head and deposited the rest of the clothing in his bag and picked it up, closing the dryer with his hip. He managed to balance the full bag on the way back to the cabin, and ran into Dean on the path.

"Hey, Dean," he called out as he caught up with him, "I accidentally got one of your shirts mixed in with mine."

Dean didn't look up from the mail he had in his hands, and merely grunted.

"So I washed it. That's okay, right?"

"Hmmm? Oh, uh, yeah. That's-Sweet! Vogue is here!" he said excitedly, holding up the magazine, smile spreading across his features.

Blaine gave him an incredulous look. "Vogue? Really? How much more gay can you get?"

Dean gave him an offended look and scoffed. "Well, hun, if you hadn't noticed, I sort of _am_ gay," he whispered conspiratorially.

Blaine rolled his eyes and gasped melodramatically. "No way! How did you keep that from me for so long! I never would have suspected." He shook his head gravely.

Dean snorted and pushed the door open, holding it open for Blaine. Blaine nodded his thanks and walked through. Dean quickly followed, pulling the door shut behind him. He practically skipped by Blaine, planting a smacking kiss on his cheek as he passed, then plopping down on Blaine's bed, belly down. He ignored the rest of the mail, which consisted of half a dozen letters from relatives, and tossed them aside, instead spreading out the magazine in front of him.

"Look at that! Nicole Kidman is _so_ gorgeous. If I were to go straight for any woman, it'd probably be her," Dean gushed. Blaine merely arched an eyebrow and dumped the clothes out on top of Dean's legs. Dean glanced back and bent his knees, freeing his calves from the pile. He swung his legs back and forth for a few moments before crossing them at the ankles and keeping them up in the air.

"You're really into that, aren't you?" Blaine asked skeptically.

"Uh huh!" Dean agreed happily, flipping through the first few pages of advertisements.

"Ohhhhh, new fad!" Dean squeaked, happily.

Blaine laughed. "It's not like you wear this sort of stuff. Why so interested?"

"Because it's cool to look at," he answered with a shrug, "and I like it."

Blaine seemed to accept that, and continued folding things neatly. They remained in companionable silence for a while, each going about their own task, until Blaine was nearly done with the laundry. The whole time, though, he kept sneaking peeks over Dean's shoulder curiously until he finally couldn't resist.

He bit his lip anxiously, looking at the rest of the unfolded clothes. His father would never allow that. Laundry was always folded immediately after it was done. But his father wasn't there. So, screw that.

Blaine dropped the pair of shorted he held halfway folded and sat on the edge of the bed. "Scoot over," he said, shoving Dean lightly. The blonde complied, shifting a few inches towards the opposite side of the narrow bed to give Blaine enough room to lay beside him.

Blaine plopped down, laying shoulder to shoulder with Dean and mimicking his pose. He folded his arms and let his eyes drag over the images on the page. A few seconds later he realized that Dean was staring at him.

He cast him a sidelong glance and blushed. "What?" he asked defensively.

"You _like_ it," he accused.

Blaine scoffed, rolling his eyes, looking like he was about to deny it. "Yeah. So?"

"What was all that about 'Oh, that's so gay' and 'Why so interested?' you said before?" he teased.

Blaine shoved Dean, who just laughed and leaned over, halfway on top of him. The blonde smothered him in playful kisses until Blaine squirmed and pushed him off, giggling embarrassingly.

"You're in a good mood," he commented. Dean just grinned at him.

"I had two Mountain Dews earlier. Sugar high," he said, very matter-of-factly.

Blaine just snorted and turned the page. They looked through the magazine together for a while, chatting about what looked good and what didn't. They agreed on almost everything, except for one weird, green dress.

"Why would a designer do that?" Blaine asked, slapping his hand down on the page in disbelief, "She looks like a peacock."

"I think she looks fabulous," Dean said.

Blaine just rolled his eyes and pointed to the picture again. "But the two of them look good together. The chemistry is great. She's a good model, it's just a horrible dress," he said.

Dean scoffed. "Good chemistry? He's sooo gay."

Blaine gave him a hard look. "You're one to talk." Dean just kept his gaze steady until Blaine finally took the bait. "Alright, how can you tell?"

Dean looked insulted. "I have _excellent_ gaydar," he said, then paused, looking at the picture again, "Also, his scarf."

"What?" Blaine said skeptically, "That's impossible."

Dean nodded, very sagely. "It's the scarf."

Blaine scoffed. "It's not like there's some… magical scarf of sexual orientation," he said, waving his fingers in the air to signify something mystical.

"There should be!" Dean said, sitting up. He looked around for a moment, before spotting what he was searching for and leaning towards the head of the bed. He pulled the end of something that was just barely peeking out. A long string of loosely woven yarn followed. Blaine vaguely recognized it as a scarf that Dean had made towards the beginning of camp.

Dean tossed it over Blaine's head. "There! Gay as the Fourth of July!" he exclaimed, flicking the end around his neck.

Blaine furrowed his brow, confused. "…huh?" he asked, cocking his head slightly. "What does homosexuality have to do with the Independence Day?"

Dean just laughed and started singing in a horrible screech. "Sky rockets in flight!" He mimicked the noise of two explosions, then continued, "Afternoon delight! Ohhhhhhhhh ohhhhh, after noon delight!"

Blaine sat up and covered his ears. "Dear God, you sound like a goat giving birth."

Dean stuck out his tongue and attacked Blaine, pushing him down again, continuing to assault Blaine's ears with his horrible screeching. "Gotta grab my baby, gotta hold him tight!" he sang, attacking his neck with kisses, wrapping his arms around his waist tightly.

"Dean!" he squeaked in protest and tried to shove the blonde off of him. Though, admittedly, he didn't try very hard. He mostly just laughed.

"C'mon baby, gotta get me some afternoon delight!" Dean said, maneuvering so that he was mostly on top of Blaine. He planted a row of sloppy kisses from his collarbone, up to his jaw, then finally on his lips.

Blaine laughed and squirmed the whole time, quieting down by the time their lips met. His eyes quickly closed and he melted into the kiss.

"Speaking," Dean murmured between kisses, pulling back a few inches, "of the Fourth. Guess what Phoenix let slip to me earlier?" He leaned back down, kissing his lips again.

Blaine responded in turn, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss for a few long seconds, unconcerned with whatever Phoenix had told Dean. When Dean pulled back again, inhaling deeply to catch his breath, Blaine finally asked. "What?"

Another sloppy kiss on his lips, then the corner of his mouth, his cheek, and the tip of his nose, progressively getting lighter and lighter, until he pressed his lips feather-light against Blaine's closed eyelid and pulled away. Blaine opened his eyes halfway, looking up at him and waiting for an answer.

"I heard that we're all going to a fair. But we're not supposed to know about it until the day before. Exciting, right?" he asked lowly.

"Very," Blaine responded, almost a growl. He lifted his head and pushed their lips together again, but Dean quickly pulled back.

"But, seriously," he said, tone laced with excitement, "isn't this awesome? I'm so pumped! I can't-"

"Dean," Blaine cut in sharply, giving him a hard look. He raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Dean grinned sheepishly. "RIght," he said, before leaning down again to kiss the other boy again.

A/N: Aaaaand, scene. Cute cracky fluff? I think so. xD But, it's also sort of a set up for the next chapter. Hope to hear from you, my loyal reviewers (And maybe a few of you who haven't reviewed, too?)! Much love to all of you! -Shannon


	11. America

A/N: Omg. Elizabeth-of-many-names, I _totally_ wanted to reply to your reviews and tell you that this chapter would be up soon, but you didn't log into an account, so I couldn't. Hahaha. I'm working on it! PS, I totally expect Darren Criss, Chris Colfer, a pink elephant, and a rhinosaurous to be arriving in the mail shortly, thank you very much. xD

Also, another shout out to anyone who's not in the know about this already: This is just part of a really big universe of fics that are all interconnected. If you go to my profile page, you'll see a complete list. There are several by me and, at the point, I believe two by gillasue345, so check those out, please!

"Today is going to be _totally_ awesome!" Phoenix said excitedly.

From the bathroom, he heard Brendon laugh. "Are you excited?" he asked sarcastically.

He'd woken up super early that morning and gone to bother Brendon. Now he was sprawled across the bed as Brendon brushed his teeth and got dressed. He kicked his feet up, only to be warned by Brendon to keep his shoes off the bed. He immediately kicked off his topsiders and resumed his previous position, stretched across the other man's bed.

"Get up," Brendon said, slapping him on the back. Phoenix merely grunted, turning his head to peek up at his friend. Brendon raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Sit up. I'm gonna put some more wax on your dreads," he said, motioning for Phoenix to straighten himself.

Phoenix complied, folding his long legs in front of him as Brendon climbed on the bed behind him. He sat impatiently as the other coated his dreads in the thick wax. He was like a little kid, fidgeting and constantly in need of something for his hands to do. He played with his jewelry a lot when he was bored or nervous.

He always wore the same jewelry, everyday. Seven hemp bracelets, a brass ring on his left hand, a hemp ankle bracelet, and three necklaces, two on leather cords, one shorter hemp circle resting on his collarbone. He also always wore a hair tie around one wrist, but there was really no need for that anymore, since he could just take two of his dreadlocks and knot them around the rest now.

About halfway through their routine, someone knocked on the door. Brendon called for them to come in and Abigail entered.

"Well, don't you look simply adorable," Phoenix said, grinning widely. She was all decked out in her patriotic gear. Her shorts, which hit mid thigh, were dark blue with little white stars printed on them. She wore a scoop neck red t shirt with a white tank top underneath. They had all worn the colours to celebrate the day-both the boys in denim shorts with some variation of red and white on their shirts-but she actually looked…. cute. In a sisterly sort of way, of course.

"Shut it," she quipped back, making a face at him as she slicked her copper hair back into a neat tail, "Are you ladies almost done with your beauty routine? We gotta load up the vans here, pretty soon."

"Just finishing," Brendon said, unaffected by the teasing. That was more of Abigail and Phoenix's thing, really, and Brendon was usually the one who put them back on track when they got carried away. They'd been doing it since they were 10, the first time they met in Uruguay. At the time, Phoenix's parents were both a part of Doctors Without Borders, and Abigail's family came on a mission trip with their church. Phoenix remembered their first meeting fondly.

His family had only been there a few days, so he was still missing the friends he'd made in Colombia. They were boarding down in the same compound as a group of about a dozen church goers on a mission trip, and Abigail was the only other kid close to his age. They bonded quickly and, unlike all the other friends he'd made in various places, stayed in close contact after they went their separate ways.

A few years later, his dad was injured and they decided to go back to America for a while. They ended up in New York, less than a hundred miles from where Abigail's family lived, so they got to see each other every few months. Then, after high school, they went to the same college, roomed together, and the rest was history.

Phoenix was pulled out of his trip down memory lane as Brendon slid off the edge of the bed and went back to the bathroom to put up the wax and wash his hands.

"Ready," Phoenix said, hopping up and clapping his hands enthusiastically, grinning widely. He loved the Fourth of July. There were other celebrations, in other countries he'd lived in, that were the equivalent, but nothing compared to the Fourth, for him. Even when he lived in South America, his parents always celebrated the Fourth because it symbolized the birth of the freest country in the world. Where you could be whoever you wanted, no matter where you came from or what you looked like.

Some people told him he was naive to think so, but he just thought they were too pessimistic. America was a great place. It wasn't perfect, by any means, but it was great. People were blessed, and they had every right to celebrate.

They walked together towards the edge of the camp where all the campers, along with most of the counselors and other staff members, had gathered.

"There's my favourites," Phoenix announced as he approached Dean, Blaine, Beth, and another girl from Abigail's group. Terra, he thought. The two girls were chatting animatedly and only paused a moment to wave happily to the trio of adults. Dean and Blaine turned their full attention to them.

"Cuuuurls," Abigail said affectionately, smiling and ruffling his mop of dark curls. Blaine looked happy, which was good. Because that meant he was tolerable and Dean could be friends with him, which meant his favourite camper was happy.

"Plan for today, childs?" Phoenix asked, leaning one hip against one of the vans and crossing his feet at the ankles.

Dean shrugged. "Not really, just gonna wander around and see what looks interesting. Maybe find a roller coaster, if they have one there," he said. Blaine nodded enthusiastically at the prospect of riding a roller coaster.

Terra scrunched her nose. "I'm not sure if I could handle that," she admitted.

Beth smiled and touched her arm comfortingly. "It's okay. They mess with my stomach, too, so I'll sit out with you, if they want to ride one," she said. Terra nodded and smiled appreciatively.

A minute later, the head of the camp, Harriet Jones, called him and the others that were driving over to review the maps one more time. A few minutes later, when they all had the route straight, it was time to load up. He glanced over at Abigail and Brendon, who still stood by the four campers he'd they'd been talking to earlier.

Their groupings had changed, though. Now Blaine and Dean had their backs to each other. Dean and Beth were talking animatedly, like they did almost any time they interacted. He'd noticed the way the two of them had paired up in small group and thought it was cute. Beth definitely had a crush on Dean, and Phoenix was pretty sure that Dean liked her, too. It was adorable, really. He remembered when he was that age, first starting to take dating and stuff seriously, when being someone's boyfriend started to mean more than just holding their hand.

It seemed like Blaine and Terra had something going, too. From a distance, Phoenix saw Blaine laugh and put his arm around the girl's shoulder in a friendly manner. It was rare to see Blaine buddy up to someone like that, he had noticed. Abigail expressed a lot of concern about him, so he'd started to notice a lot of little things that the curly haired boy did. Like, for example, how he was painfully shy and deathly silent around anyone but Abigail (and, by extension, himself and Brendon), Dean, and, now, Terra.

In any case, if the way that Terra blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear when Blaine put an arm around her shoulder and how Blaine seemed comfortable around her were any indication, the two shy kids were totally crushing on each other. Phoenix grinned as he walked towards the knot of people. It was adorable how they were pairing off.

As he approached, he slung his arms around Brendon and Abigail's shoulders. "Load up!" he called to the crowd around him, jerking his thumb at the big van. It was more like a baby bus, really. He went around to the driver's side and entered the normal door as people started lining up. He started the ignition and opened the folding doors to allow the stream of people onboard.

The drive was short and peaceful. Parking was a bitch, but that was to be expected. As they got off the bus, Phoenix, Abigail, and Brendon began to hand out wristbands. "These will get you on all rides and into all the various fun house… things. But food and drink are all extra, as well as the games. You've all got cash, right?" Phoenix called out and got a general response of "yeah" in return.

He scanned the crowd one last time as Phoenix and Abigail put bracelets around the last kids' wrists. "Okay!" he announced, "Don't go anywhere out of the fences. Yeah?"

"Yeah," they all returned.

"And find one of us if anything happens. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And be back here at what time?"

"7:30."

"Good," he said and nodded, then waved his arms towards the large fair, "Now scram!"

The kids all cheered and scattered. He watched, grinning as Dean, Beth, Blaine, and Terra all headed off together before cutting away from them and heading in the opposite direction. For a while, he wandered around with Abigail and Brendon, mostly chatting. Brendon didn't have a stomach for a lot of rides, especially high ones, so they only tried a handful of more tame ones.

He could feel Abigail practically twitching by his side, and knew she wanted to go on something big and tall, but didn't want to ditch Brendon. Phoenix rolled his eyes at her. She was too nice for her own good, some times. She should know Brendon well enough to know he wouldn't mind waiting if they went on a few extreme rides without him. But it was sort of amusing to watch her tweak out, too, so he decided to remain silent.

Every few minutes he saw another group of kids from the camp among the crowd. About an hour after they'd arrived, he spotted Beth and Terra again, standing near the fair's one small roller coaster. He vaguely remembered Dean and Blaine saying something about riding the roller coaster earlier, and figured they were probably riding and the girls were waiting.

He started to say hi to them, but two kids stopped as they went by, talking to Brendon, asking if they were going to get to do a music day again any time soon, and he got distracted. When he looked back at the girls, they were with Dean and Blaine again. He watched as the two pairs parted, though not in the composition he had expected. The boys headed off one way, and the girls in the opposite, both pairs waving happily to the other.

He watched Blaine and Dean walk off hand in hand as Beth and Terra approached them, waving.

"Hi, Phoenix!" Beth called out to him.

"Hey, kiddo! Are you-" he cut himself short as his brain finally caught up to what he'd seen.

His gaze snapped back to the boys as they disappeared into the crowd, but he couldn't see anything below the shoulders. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, creasing his brow, before dragging his gaze back to the girl in front of him.

"Uh, sorry. Are you guys having fun?" he asked, smile back in place.

"Yeah," she beamed, nodding enthusiastically.

"Oh, Beth! Let's go on the 'll be fun!" Terra said at her said, pulling on her arm.

Beth waved at the three adults as she was dragged away, laughing, then turned and followed her friend.

"I'm so glad that Terra's making friends," Abigail said. Brendon and Phoenix both nodded.

"She was even more shy than Blaine was, when they first got here. They've both come out of their shells so well and made so much progress. I'm so proud," she said reminiscently.

Phoenix grinned at her, pushing the thoughts of what he'd seen to the back of his head. He must have been imagining it. "You should be proud of yourself. You've helped them both."

Brendon nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, Abby. That's what you do," he shrugged and spread his hands out before him, "You help people. And you're really good at it." He laughed. "You've had plenty of practice with me, we all know." He grinned and slung his arm around her shoulder affectionately.

"I feel a group hug coming on," Phoenix announced and, ignoring Abigail's protests, wrapped his arms tightly around his two friends. He and Brendon both jumped a little, bouncing and jostling Abigail between them until she was laughing and pushing them off.

"I'm tearing' up guys, I really am. Now shove off," she said, rolling her eyes affectionately at the two men. She straightened up, smoothing her shirt down, "a proper lady can not be seen in the intimate company of two men at once. It would tarnish my reputation."

"What? Are you worried the cute blonde running the lemonade stand will see you?" Brendon asked with a wink. Phoenix glanced to his left at said lemonade stand. In the window was a short, thin girl with cropped blonde hair that barely reached past her chin.

He looked back at Abigail and saw her blushing guiltily, a sure sign that she'd been checking out the girl and he just hadn't noticed. "Geez, Abby. You sure have a type," he said, then held his hands in front of his chest mockingly. Abigail half screamed, half scoffed at him and slapped his hands down.

"Her boobs aren't _that_ big," she defended, "Ds. DDs, _maybe_. That's still in normal range. Besides, it wasn't that. She winked at me earlier. And she's cute! Nice eyes."

"Yeah, I'm sure you've been looking at her eyes," he snickered, earning himself an elbow in the ribs and another blush that made it worth the sore spot.

After that, they wandered around again for a while before all three started getting hungry. It was Phoenix's turn to pick up the tab, so Abigail and Brendon found a place to sit while he went to go get some food for them.

"Three corndogs, a Pepsi, a Mountain Dew, and a lemonade, please," he ordered, sliding a twenty to the guy behind the window, taking his change a moment later and waiting for the corndogs to finish frying. He leaned on the counter, tapping his fingers as he waited, glancing around absently.

He'd all but forgotten about Dean and Blaine by that point. It had only been a split second glance, he decided, and he hadn't even seen anything clearly. They'd probably just been standing close and brushed hands. That happened all the time when you were walking next to someone.

As if it were an act of divine intervention, just as he was dismissing what he'd thought he'd seen for good, he spotted the two boys again. They were sitting across a table from each other, a dozen or so yards away, a half eaten funnel cake between them. His eyebrows shot up at what he witnessed then.

Phoenix watched in surprise as Blaine leaned over, smiling minutely at the blonde, and tipped his chin up with a knuckle. He said something that Phoenix couldn't hear and swept his thumb over the corner of Dean's lips where a bit of powdered sugar lingered.

"Here ya go, sir!"

The voice behind him scared Phoenix and he jumped a mile, whipping around to face the man who held out the food for him. "Oh, yeah. Thanks," he said, smiling as he took the food and drinks, balancing it all precariously.

When he looked back at the two boys, Blaine's hand was back on the table and they both looked a little red in the face. As he walked back towards Brendon and Abigail, he tried to rationalize things.

_Okay, that wasn't that big of a deal. It was totally normal,_ he told himself,_ I wipe stuff of Brendon's face, sometimes. I mean, it's not that weird, right? Right. Some guys might not do it, but they're meat heads. Dean and Blaine are just comfortable with each other. And they're close, now! And, it looked like they were blushing, but it's really hot. They were probably just hot. Hell, I cuddle with Brendon all the time. It doesn't mean we're gay. Just friends. So, they could totally be just friends. Yeah. Just really good, bromantic friends. Totally._

He snapped his attention back into reality as he reached the other two. He passed out the corndogs and dropped the Pepsi in front of Brendon. "In honor of Miss Blonde Boobs, over there," he said, jerking his head towards the small stand and presenting the lemonade to Abigail.

She rolled her eyes, but accepted it, making a face at him. He just grinned shamelessly, mind back on what was in front of him again. They chatted easily as they ate, but Phoenix was a little distracted. He watched Dean and Blaine get up from across the crowd and head off together, walking close enough that their arms brushed.

They sat there for about twenty minutes before the crisis that was bound to happen occurred. One of the younger kids was really upset about something silly and his friend came to find the first group of adults that he could find-them. Brendon held up his hand when Abigail went to stand up and follow the boy and followed him instead.

"You two go. Ride some exciting rides. I'll catch you later," he said over his shoulder as he followed the boy. Abigail looked at Phoenix and grinned.

"Ferris wheel time!" she exclaimed and tugged Phoenix along by the hand. He stumbled for a step, then quickly caught up by taking a few extra long steps. He held out his arm for Abigail, who smiled and linked her arm through his. "Why, thank you, my fine sir." He snorted and pulled a few of his dreadlocks over his shoulder as they walked.

Now that he was suspicious and it was on his mind, Phoenix was keeping an extra eye out for Dean and Blaine. He spotted them as they approached the ferris wheel, and kept his eyes trained on them as often as he could. When they got close, he strained his ears to pick up on their conversation. He could hear Dean talking.

"Fine," he overheard the blond boy saying exasperatedly, "if you won't let me ki-"

Someone a few feet away from Phoenix laughed loudly and he couldn't hear the next few words, but he quickly tuned back in.

"in public, then let's go on the ferris wheel? It's very private."

He watched as Blaine smiled coyly and Dean grinned mischievously, tugging the curly haired boy by the hand until they got in one of the cars for the ferris wheel.

Without really thinking about it, Phoenix darted towards the one right behind them. "Hey!" Abigail protested, "I wanted to go on the blue one."

Phoenix waved his hand dismissively. "Deal," he said and made a face at her pout. She rolled her eyes and settled down beside him, peering out the window, practically brimming with excitement.

"I looove ferris wheels. Everyone below looks like little bugs," She said, pressing her forehead to the bars as the made their ascent.

Phoenix hummed in reply, not really listening. His eyes were trained on the cart in front of them. They were below it at the moment, so he couldn't see inside. As they neared the top, however, he could see more and more of what was inside. He saw the tops of their heads first, and noticed how close they were. As Phoenix and Abigail's car moved even with Dean and Blaine's, he could see them clearly.

His jaw dropped.

They were full on, no shame, making out. He'd seen such an intense mac session, and he'd walked in on quite a few, in his day. Dean was halfway onto of Blaine, leaning over him and pressing him into the seat. And Blaine didn't seem to mind, either-he slid his hands down Dean's back and into his back pockets.

A few a moment of gaping, Phoenix got his wits about him again and tapped Abigail on the arm, still staring at the two campers. When she didn't respond, He looked over at her and tugged on her arm. "Abby," he hissed. Finally, she looked at him.

"What?"

"Look!" he said, pointing back towards the two boys, looking at them again. His jaw dropped in shock again.

They were sitting, very innocent looking, next to each other in the car. They looked perfectly friendly and not at all like they'd been sucking face ten seconds ago.

"Oh, it's Blaine and Dean," she said.

Phoenix sputtered. "But… they-they were-"

"Hi, boys!" Abigail called waving to them. They both looked over. Blaine blushed guiltily, but Dean was smooth and waved. Blaine smiled and waved a second later. Phoenix held his hands up, unsure of what to do.

"But…."

Abigail looked at him out of the corner of her eye and he sighed heavily, hanging his head. He raised his hand and waved to them as they started moving again, beginning their descent.

"What's wrong with you, weirdo?" Abigail asked as he sighed again and leaned back in his seat.

"Nothing," Phoenix said and smiled at her.

She gave him a funny look, but then shrugged and stood as the ferris wheel came to a stop at the bottom. They got off and Abigail dragged him towards the roller coaster, the opposite direction that Dean and Blaine headed off in.

"I think I'm going crazy," he muttered to himself.

The rest of the time they spent at the fair passed uneventfully and Phoenix didn't see the boys again until they got on the van. He watched them suspiciously in the rear view mirror as he drove back to the camp. They were sitting suspiciously close in the dimming light and he couldn't see the hands that rested between them. He imagined that they were holding hands.

When they got back to camp, he was in charge of passing out watermelon with Brendon as everyone got settled in for the fireworks display. As the colours started to illuminate the sky, he grabbed his own slice of watermelon and watched Dean and Blaine from across the group. They were sitting close together.

He watched as Dean leaned over and whispered in Blaine's ear. The other boy blushed and nodded, then they stood off and headed towards the cabins as the display started winding down. Phoenix noticed that they were standing extra close and hummed softly in the back of his throat.

"Hmmm… Maybe I should do bed checks tonight," he said to himself as he tossed his watermelon rind in the trash.

~break~

Today had been the best day of damp yet, by far. He looked over at Blaine and smiled. Their hands were close on the grass and he took the liberty of sliding his fingers over another inch to brush against Blaine's.

Dean sighed contentedly as he chewed his watermelon. Watermelon was definitely his favourite fruit. It was juicy and delicious and got you just the right amount of messy. It was the perfect Fourth of July food. Plus, he'd read somewhere that it was a sort of aphrodisiac and heightened sexual drive. He grinned deviously.

_Let's test out that theory._

The other boy glanced down at their hands, then up at Dean and smiled shyly. It was adorable. Really, really adorable. Dean bit his lip, considering something, then leaned over and whispered in Blaine's ear.

"Why don't we split? Go back to the cabin early?" he said, letting his voice carry his real intent. He'd been dying all day to kiss Blaine, but his…whatever they were, wouldn't let him in public. Thirty seconds on the ferris wheel was definitely not enough.

Blaine blushed and smiled before nodding. Dean grinned again and stood, brushing grass from his shorts. They walked back to the cabin in silent anticipation.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Dean grabbed Blaine by the wrist and pulled him close. Blaine's lips twitched upwards slightly and Dean smiled as he leaned in. He pressed a gentle kiss to his cabinmate's lips at first, but Blaine returned it with much more fervor.

Dean grunted softly and took a few steps forward until Blaine was against the bed and they both fell onto the sheets together. Blaine's hands came up to Dean's hips and he squeezed gently, sending chills up Dean's spine. He pushed his tongue forward and Blaine's lips parted with little resistance or hesitation. One hand went to his dark curls, fingers weaving into the mass. The other pressed itself flat against Blaine's chest.

It seemed that what he'd read about watermelon was right, because Blaine was being way more aggressive than usual, and it was definitely affecting Dean more than it ever had before. Things were getting really heavy and Dean was starting to think they were going to go further than they had before.

Then the door opened.

"AH! I knew it! I _knew_ it!"

Dean jumped a mile, popping up off the bed at the same time that Blaine sat up bolt straight.

"I knew I wasn't going crazy!" Phoenix exclaimed from the doorway.

Dean was breathing heavy and his heart was racing. He glanced next to him at Blaine, who was as white as a ghost and looked like he might pass out. "Shh! Phoenix!" Dean said, running forward. He pulled his counselor inside and shut the door behind them.

"Ha! I saw you guys are the fair, earlier. But nobody else seemed to. I thought I was going freaking' nuts. Oh my god, _guys_!" he exclaimed.

Dean put up his hands to silence the man. "Phoenix," he begged, "Please. _Please_, you can't tell anyone. You have to promise me."

"I don't know, Dean…."

"Nixie. _Please_," he said, then glanced back at Blaine, who still looked on the verge of fainting. "Look at him. Do you see how scared he looks?" he whispered lowly to the counselor.

Phoenix took a good look at Blaine, then turned his eyes back to Dean, looking torn.

"Please."

Phoenix sighed. "Fine, fine. I promise. But if anyone else blows the whistle on you two, I had no prior knowledge. Got it?" he said, raising his eyebrows and sticking his finger in Dean's chest.

Dean smiled widely and nodded vigorously. "Yeah, yeah, totally! Thank you so so much, Phoenix!"

Blaine looked a little less grim, but still freaked out. He kept silent the whole time.

Phoenix started to head out the door, but paused and looked over his shoulder, considering. "So, uh, you guys are… involved. You… uh, I'm assuming you know what you're doing…. and uh, how to be…. safe?" he asked awkwardly, cheeks darkening a shade.

"Oh, god. Phoenix, just get out," Blaine said, burying his face in his hands.

"Gladly!" he said before shutting the door and leaving them alone again.

AN: Well, here ya go. xD Did I do well with Phoenix? I love him, but I found him really hard to write, for some reason. I'm not sure why. Reviews are crack. ;D


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